Peace Love Biscuits
by her-imperius-condessy
Summary: Also on AO3. Post season 8 finale. Cas is human, and the road to acceptance is going to be long. Not only for him, but for Sam and Dean as well. Destiel. Based on the FIve Stages of Grief. Warnings in general for violence, a graphic torture scene, language, sexual situations, drunken shenanigans, mentions of animal cruelty, and brief very very mild dub-con. Please review!
1. Prologue

Prologue

Castiel walked through the woods for a long time. Under normal circumstances, he would have been able to tell how long he had been walking by judging the movement of the Earth under his feet and the barely perceptible movement of the stars and the moon. The only movement he was able to feel now was the persistent trudging as he made his legs keep moving forward. He had to keep going, find some form of civilization before he passed out. He could feel his breathing becoming heavier; almost all the muscles in his vessel- no, _body_ aching horribly, not used to this much activity without his Grace to fuel everything. He could even feel blisters on his feet, probably from the business shoes of Jimmy, which had never bothered him before, but were obviously unsuited to what could only be described as hiking.

Cas had waited until the streaks of fire in the sky had mostly abated. He had no idea what would happen to the vessels falling to the Earth. Many would die on impact, he imagined. But many would survive. Would they remember? Would they have any residual powers, like the Nephilim? They could still be connected to Heaven, since there was still a Heavenly Host, even though the Host just consisted of the Scribe.

He watched his former brethren fall, then came to accept that there was nothing he could do. Not now, not here, and not alone. The first thing Cas knew he had to do was find the Winchesters. That was Priority Number One in his mind, but to find them, he must first trek through the unknown woods and hopefully find some town, or a gas station if nothing else.

He topped a steep hill, limping slightly because the leaves were wet and he had slipped several times, hurting his ankle a bit. But from here, he could see, not very far, a winding road, the wet blacktop shiny through the trees. Sending up a silent prayer of thanks, more out of habit than thinking _anyone_ was listening to prayers anymore, he started walking towards it. Cas finally exited the tree-line a few minutes later, almost just wanting to lay down here on the side of the road in tiredness, but he had to keep moving. He took a couple of steps out into the road, looking for a helpful sign, or landmark. He saw neither.

That was the last thing he remembered.

XxxX

Dean Winchester was beyond freaking the fuck out.

He was normally cool under pressure. It came with the job description. You _gotta_ be cool. But seriously.

The last couple of hours had him so close to having some kind of panic attack, the kind usually reserved for waking up from Hell Nightmares.

First, there had been the damn angels recreating 'Starry Night', in full color, complete with fiery craters and total decimation of shit. _Fucking angels_! And he had no doubt in his mind that that douche-nozzle Metatron was behind this bullshit.

Then, while the angels were still raining down, Sam had started doing a freaky Linda Blair impression, only spraying Dean, the side of the Impala and the ground with blood instead of pea soup. Coughing and gagging, Sam said he was okay, but Dean called BS, and started to load him into the car.

Of course, Sammy started arguing about Crowley.

"We can't just leave him in there, Dean," and "He needs to go to the hospital, too," and "I'm not getting in the car until you promise to bring him."

So Dean had finally got his big-ass little brother in the car, rolling down the window in case Sam needed to spew all over again. Then he went back into the church, where he got Crowley, who was sobbing and telling Dean that the girl in 'Love Story' really didn't have to die, and alternately singing parts from what Dean recognized as 'Wind Beneath My Wings'.

Super inappropriate, considering the scene outside.

Dean literally dragged Crowley's ass out and dropped him in the back seat. His sobbing turned into wailing when he saw the 'Starry Night' impression.

Dean immediately hit the highway and had no intentions of stopping for any reason until they saw a sign for a hospital. An hour he drove, leaving the radio off, only the sounds of the air blowing through the open windows and Sam's ragged breathing and Crowley's whimpering keeping him focused.

He knew he was speeding way more than usual, but he figured that all the law enforcement would be focused on the falling bodies, and this was an emergency. The road was a little curvy, and kind of wet. So when Dean went around a curve, speeding at almost thirty over the limit, there was no way of avoiding hitting the person standing just barely in the road. He slammed on the brakes and the tires squealed to a stop, but not before there was a loud, painful thump and the person was thrown down the road a ways.

Swearing, because this was the last thing he needed right now, Dean hurried out of the car and went to check on the person, hoping to a deaf God that it wasn't an angel, and _really_ hoping the person was alive. Dean did not need another dead person on his conscience.

He wasn't expecting it to be Cas.

He dropped next to the…whatever he was now, and checked to make sure he was still breathing and had a pulse. "Cas…", he muttered, shaking his shoulders a little, "Cas, you hear me, man?"

Dean was checking his head when he noticed a lot of blood coming out of the back, trickling down his neck.

"Damn," he whispered, sighing. Cas had potentially survived a fiery fall from space, only to possibly die of a head injury by his friend, who he was probably looking for. Dean kept looking down his body; both of his wrists hung at funny angles, and there was blood seeping through his clothes in several places. Another one for the hospital.

Cas was much lighter than Dean expected. He picked him up very, very carefully and sat him in the backseat with Crowley, who was absently staring out the window at the moon and singing 'Space Oddity'. Dean strapped the seatbelt around Cas, then got back behind the wheel.

They had places to go.

XXxx

The hospital that Dean eventually found was _packed_. It was like a fucking circus in the ER. People were running all over the place, everybody talking making a loud roar. Angels who had survived the fall were still in need of medical attention, and a lot were being brought in in critical conditions, some with major burns, others with so many internal injuries they looked like they'd gone through a trash compactor. Then there were people who had been affected by the falling bodies- the roof had collapsed in a couple's bedroom, multiple vehicle accidents, houses caught on fire, you name it.

And, of course, seeing as most of the angels' vessels had had families, a whole bunch of missing people were suddenly found, and worried spouses, parents, and kids milled around, wanting to know what had happened to their loved one.

Dean didn't actually give a crap. Yeah, yeah, it was his business to help people, but these guys were way past his help level, and his brother was fucking _hemorrhaging_ on his shoulder. He dragged Sammy in first, then went back for Cas then Crowley. Dean managed to get them seated all together then told the nurse behind the desk that they needed help. Her hair looked like she may have tried to yank it out in places and she had several pens stuck in her pony-tail. She took his name then told him the triage nurse would be to see him soon.

Dean sat across from the group he'd dragged in. Sam was barely lucid, eyes half open and his breathing shallow and gurgling. His skin had turned a weird grey color and he was sweating but his skin was cold. Cas was still unconscious, paler than normal, but the bleeding from the back of his head had stopped. Blood spotted through his clothes where he must have gotten torn up on the pavement, but they were drying. Crowley had burst into fresh tears at the bustle of the waiting room, but was calming down.

'Soon' turned into an hour and a half. A harassed looking woman in scrubs that smelled unpleasantly like smoked human flesh sat next to him with a clip board.

"Are you Mr. Solo?" She asked briskly.

"Yeah, that's me. Dean."

"Dean, okay, what happened?"

Dean ran her through the story he had thought up, pretty awesomely if he said so himself.

Sam, his brother, had started coughing up blood, and then throwing up blood. Dean was bringing him to the hospital when he passed by an accident. These other two were in a car together that had hit something, Dean guessed one of the falling people, but he hadn't seen anyone. He told her he knew Cas, was a friend of his and his brother's, but had no idea who this other guy was. But they both seemed like they needed to come to the hospital, too.

She wrote all this stuff down, then started calling for stretchers. After the nurses had loaded the three men up and started towards the swinging doors Dean started to follow, but the triage nurse stopped him.

"You can go back to see them when they are stabilized, I know you understand how serious some of these injuries are. I'll have someone come get you."

Sighing again, Dean sank back into the chair, only just realizing he was covered in three different people's blood. There were other people in the waiting room who looked in worse shape, so he didn't worry about it. Absentmindedly, Dean pulled out his phone.

'Twelve missed calls. Seven new voicemail messages.'

He blinked at the screen for a minute. Who would have called him that many times?

He entered the code to listen to the messages.

'_First new message._

_Dean. Dean, this is Kevin. These boards are lighting up like I don't know what. Is it something to do with the trials? Are Sam and Cas okay? Did something go wrong? Call me back._

_Next new message._

_Dude, it's Charlie. I'm not sure if you're aware, but people are falling outta the sky. Kinda weird. Call me back._

_Next new message. _

_Holy crap Dean! I just stepped out of the bunker! The angels are falling! What is happening? Freaking out here. You better not be dead._

_Next new message._

_Uh. Hey dude, it's Garth. I think the Human Torch just made a smoking hole in the middle of my pier. You, uh, you know, this usually has your name written on it. Maybe let me know what's happening?_

_Next new message._

_Uhm, hey Dean. This is Sherriff Mills. Jody. A person with charred off wings just landed on my car? Somehow I think this may be your sort of thing, you know what I mean. Call me back._

_Next new message._

_DEAN WINCHESTER! I am a damn conduit for the inspired Word. You WILL call me back. NOW!_

_Next New Message._

_CALL ME, YOU RAT BASTARD!'_

Dean had to hold his phone away from his ear at the volume of Kevin's last message. He went back and deleted all of them, then started calling everyone and letting them know the little he knew. He made sure to call Kevin last.

Now there was nothing left to do but wait.

xXxX

The first sensation Cas had was pain. It was just sort of dull and everywhere all through his body. Everything hurt, but the more he thought about it, he thought his head and his wrists hurt the most. And his feet, and his legs.

He needed to know where he was. Opening his eyes was a struggle that almost sent him back into unconsciousness, but he persevered. After what seemed like several minutes, he was able to crack his eyes open, then blink them.

He seemed to be in a dim hospital room. Ugh, the last time he had been in a hospital was unpleasant enough. Not even a full day as a human and he was back here again. Not an auspicious start. He would have to work on a way to get his Grace back as soon as he got out of here. Cas looked around and noticed a figure sitting in a chair in the corner of the room.

He was slumped down, almost sliding out of the chair and his head resting on the back. His arms and legs were splayed out as if he were in a bed. Cas recognized it immediately as Dean. A pleasant warmth spread through Cas's chest realizing that Dean had found him. But why was he in this state?

The first and second attempts at speech only resulted in weak croaks. The third time, he managed to get out a mangled version of Dean's name. He tried again louder. "Dean?"

Dean startled out of sleep and sat up immediately, obviously not realizing he was barely on the edge of his chair and he slipped off of and made a very undignified noise, kind of like a mouse squeak. "Shit, Cas, pretend you didn't just see or hear that."

Dean straightened up and Cas felt like laughing, but something told him it would be very painful.

"What happened," Cas managed to croak out. Dean frowned.

"I was kinda gonna ask you the same thing. You want some water?"

Cas nodded and Dean helped him sit up to have a few sips of some cold water. It was a wonderful feeling.

Dean sighed. "I guess I should explain first. I managed to stop Sammy from finishing the trial. Just in time. But he got a lot worse, he was coughing up a lot of blood, so I knew I needed to get him to the hospital. We left the church and were about to get in the car when the angels started falling. Sam wouldn't leave without Crowley, so we all got packed up and left."

Dean cleared his throat. "I was speeding, driving way too fast. I came around a curve and you were standing there and I couldn't stop in time. You've got a bad concussion, almost fractured your skull. And you did break both wrists, so you needed casts till they heal. And you're scraped up real bad. I'm…I'm really sorry, Cas."

Cas made his eyes focus on Dean. This was a harder task than usual. "I am okay, Dean. Don't apologize."

Dean huffed. "You are so _not_ okay, dude. What the hell happened up there?"

He had to struggle a minute to focus. "Oh. I went back to Heaven. Naomi was dead. Metatron had killed her. He…Held me down and cut my Grace out. He told me to live a normal life, and when I died to tell him my story. Then I was in the forest."

Cas paused. "My Grace, the heart and the bow were part of a spell to throw every other angel out of Heaven." Dean nodded.

"Many of them are dead now, aren't they?"

Dean sighed and sat down on the side of the bed. "Not many of them had soft landings. There'll be survivors, but there's no way to know what shape they'll be in…What they remember, what powers they'll still have…We just gotta wait and see."

Cas felt very floaty. "Dean?"

"Yeah, Cas?"

"You'll help me get my Grace back, right? As soon as I am able."

Dean didn't say anything for a minute. "Yeah, Cas. If I can."

Cas hummed happily then something tugged at him. "How is Sam?"

"They still won't let me see him, he's not stable enough yet. He was drowning in his own blood, they had to put tubes in his lungs to drain it out. They did some kinda scan and said he had lesions on the inside of his lungs, but they're already healing. It's just a miracle he didn't die before the healing process started. He's hooked to all kinds of machines and they got him on so many meds, and a blood transfusion."

The next words were softer. "I was so scared, Cas."

Cas tried, really really hard to reach over to Dean to comfort him, but he could just move his fingers some. "He'll be okay. He always is. You two are notoriously difficult to kill."

Dean chuckled at that. "That's true. But I was worried about you, too. I thought you were one of those angels falling."

He tried to move again, and this time Dean caught onto the movement and squeezed the fingers sticking out from the white cast.

Cas felt his eyes getting heavy. "They have me on some kind of soporific, don't they?"

Dean chuckled again. "You could say that. Nerd."

All was dark as his eyes closed. His last sensation was of Dean leaving the bedside. Cas wanted to ask him to stay but he was already asleep.

xxXX

The next month was hectic to say the least.

A week after the night that the news was referring to as 'The Night of Fire', Cas was let out of the hospital. Dean brought him a set of his own clothes to change into and then drove him back to the bunker. It was only about an hour's drive, so Dean had been making it back and forth pretty often. After Sam had woke up and was out of the ICU, he started asking for stuff like his computer and underpants, so Dean had been playing gofer. And he had to keep watch over Kevin, who had decided to work on the Angel Tablet, and the full Demon Tablet. Dean had to make sure he was eating and not taking his weight in No-Doze, like he did last time. Or getting shit-faced.

Cas seemed more than happy to be returning to the bunker. He hadn't liked the hospital. He complained that it smelled uncomfortably like Naomi's office in Heaven, and the concussion had made him grouchy for hours on end. Dean just left him to watch TV and sulk on his own.

But the concussion had healed and the doctor had taken the stitches out of the back of his head. Cas was unhappy that the casts couldn't come off for another few weeks, but he told Dean it didn't matter; he would have his Grace back by then, he was sure.

Kevin jumped up from the table in the library that he had claimed with a rain forest's worth of notes when they came in, running over and giving Cas a hug.

"It's good to see you, man! It sucked that Dean ran you over with his car…"

Dean hit the prophet in the back of the head. Not too hard. "I didn't run him over, dork. Get back to Google Translating."

Kevin just rolled his eyes, but headed for the kitchen.

Dean started towards the hall where the rooms were. "Come on Cas, got something to show you."

There were quite a few bedrooms in the Headquarters, and while most of them seemed to be on this hall, Sam had found some in other areas of the bunker, too. Before all the shit started going down, he had been thinking of making a map.

Dean opened the door to the room next to his. "This one's yours. I'm next door, Sam's is right across the hall, and Kevin is down at the end."

The rooms mostly looked the same. There was the bed, an old-fashioned brass frame with bars at the head. There was a desk with a reading lamp and some drawers, and a chest of drawers for clothes that they were going to have to go shopping for. And there was a bedside table with a clock and another lamp.

"Kinda plain, I know, but you can decorate however you want. This is your room, Cas."

He sat on the side of the bed, sinking into the memory foam. "Thank you, Dean. This is…good."

Dean felt his eyebrows shoot up. "Good?"

Cas nodded, looking around. "Yes. I will be able to have my Grace back soon, and won't have much need for this room. But now it is good."

Dean felt something, the familiar feeling of being pissed the hell off, even though he didn't really know why. He'd been keeping himself in check, partially because Cas being hurt was his fault, and partially because he didn't want to start anything.

He needed to go see Sam.

XxXx

"Hey, man. Get Cas home okay?"

Dean huffed and sat in the chair he pulled up next to the bed.

"Yeah, I did."

Sam shut the lid to his laptop. "What's up?"

"He is dead set on getting his Grace back. It's all he's focused on."

Sam coughed some. "I guess he'll need a lot of time to accept it, you know. That he's permanently human. It's gotta suck."

Dean rolled his eyes. "I get that. But what if he can get it back?"

Sam frowned. "I very seriously doubt that. I mean, for a spell, Metatron probably used the whole thing, and even if he didn't, won't Cas need _all_ of his Grace?"

"I dunno, Sam. You'll have to do the research when you come back home. Cas is probably already in the angel section trying to find whatever he needs."

There was a tense silence. "Sam, he gets angeled back up again, you know what the first thing he's gonna do?"

Sam shrugged. "No, what?"

"He'll go and get the trials from Metatron, then he'll close the gates to Heaven. He'll be stuck up there forever."

He nodded. "Yeah, but we knew that before. He was going to close the gates and all the angels he ever pissed off were going to kill him."

Dean got up and started pacing. "Yeah, now he's stuck on Earth with all the angels he ever pissed off. What's the word on that, by the way?"

Sam opened the computer again. Since he'd gotten his laptop, he'd been doing what research he could. "Mostly, the ones who survived the fall, claim to remember their human lives, up to a certain point to where an angel asked them to be used as vessels. Then they remember some things off and on, until they fell. The smart ones have kept quiet and just gone back to their families, but some have gone on some shows, proving their powers. It seems to vary from angel to angel. Some can still heal, some can lift tons, some can read minds, or a combination of those."

Sam clicked around. "But they have lost the ability to teleport- we saw the wings burn off. And they can't make themselves invisible. I guess that was some kind of wing, cloaking thing. Also, they can die. But they can heal themselves, although it takes a while, which is why so many survived. So to kill one it would have to be a head shot, or setting them on fire, or beheading."

Dean nodded, storing the info. "So how many did survive?"

"Looking at sites from all over the world, different organizations put the number between seven and eight thousand."

Dean whistled. "Well, let's hope they learned their lesson by being kicked out by the pissed off librarian and maybe they'll leave everyone alone."

Sam gave him a Look. "Does that ever work for us?"

Dean didn't bother answering.

After a few minutes, Dean remembered something else he had been meaning to ask about.

"Any news on Crowley?"

Sam sighed and closed the computer, looking tired, pale and washed out, still hypovolemic the doctors called it.

"No. He just vanished from the room they had him in here."

"Abaddon, maybe?"

"Yeah. I think so. She mentioned something about a regime change down in Hell when she talked to him in the church."

Dean couldn't help shuddering. "That's only gonna lead to a whole world of pain, for everyone. Lilith was a bitch when she was in control, but that chick is flat out insane."

Sam yawned. "Well, she's not doing anything obvious so far."

Dean got out of his chair. "I'm gonna go back. You get some rest, man."

"All I do is rest, Dean," he grumbled, but his eyes were already closing and his breath evening out. He was knocked out by the time Dean closed the door behind him.

XXxx

The next day, Dean took Cas to the Goodwill in Lebanon to get his own set of clothes. When Cas asked why he couldn't just keep wearing Dean's clothes, it wasn't like he was going to be human for much longer, Dean just groaned in frustration and dragged him out of the bunker by the elbow while Kevin tried not to laugh.

Shopping with Cas wasn't nearly as bad as clothes shopping with Charlie. He picked out a few pairs of already well-worn jeans, and he chose a few Henley shirts like the ones Dean had that he had been comfortable wearing. He got some plain t-shirts, and some with designs on them that he said were 'interesting'.

Dean had to stop him when he wandered over to the sweaters, though.

"No, no, no. Only stuffy old men and douchebags wear sweaters."

Cas had done that head-tilt, 'I don't understand your human language' thing he did that Dean _so_ did not think was kind of adorable.

"I'm often cold. I think it has something to do with not having the warmth of my Grace. And I recall often wearing sweaters during my time as Emmanuel."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure that lady of yours had you whipped."

"She never whipped me, Dean."

They were starting to get Looks.

Dean steered him towards the jackets. "Here, look at these; much cooler than sweaters. You can layer up as much as you want."

Cas ended up finding a couple of corduroy jackets that he liked. Then he started looking at the coats. "Dean, look what I found!"

It was a beige trench, a little shorter than his old one that had been completely ruined, and it looked like it might fit him better, but it was extremely reminiscent. Dean shook his head. "No. Absolutely not."

"Please?"

Ugh. Sam must have gave him tips on how to make the sad puppy dog face during one of their hospital visits. The coat went in the buggy, needless to say.

Next were shoes. Dean told him he needed a pair of boots, in case he ever decided to go hunting with him and Sam, and Cas also picked out a pair of black canvas, Converse knock-offs.

The next store they hit was a Wal-Mart. Dean never had liked the idea of buying used underwear or socks, it just didn't seem hygienic. You never knew what had been in those things before, and some people were just nasty. There are some things no amount of washing can take out.

Dean left Cas looking at the underwear, which was apparently a very difficult choice, and went to get him a phone. Preferably the less complex the better. He grabbed one that looked like it was geared towards senior citizens. This would do.

He met back up with Cas who had picked out a couple packs of underwear and socks, and a set of undershirts. On the way to the checkout, Dean took a detour through the grocery part of the store and grabbed a pie and a pack of beer. He thought they might need some more stuff at the bunker, but the essentials would do for now.

XxXx

Two weeks later and Sam came home. And to Dean it was not a day too soon. It was kind of like Sam needed to be there to be the grounding force that kept Dean focused, and mostly out of trouble.

Really, it was Kevin's fault. He was taking a much more lenient approach to translating the tablets, and he found it was actually easier that way. So he took breaks and explored the bunker.

One day, he found where Sam had stashed Thor's hammer. They had taken it from that auction place and kept it in the trunk, but when they found the bunker they figured it needed to go in there.

Well, one thing led to another and Dean still had that Braveheart wig that Charlie had given him when he led the army at the Battle of the Kingdoms, and Kevin happened to have a talking Iron Man mask in the trunk of his car.

Dean really didn't want to explain the giant scorch mark on the ceiling of the kitchen. Maybe Sam wouldn't notice. At least he'd gotten the electricity back on.

The day before he was supposed to pick Sam up, Dean went on an appropriate supply run. The doctors had told him Sam would still need a high-protein diet to finish healing up and get his strength back, so Dean loaded up on meat and eggs and lots of vegetables and fruits because Sam would be bitching if he was on a meat and eggs only diet. He also got about five jars of tasteless, clear protein powder.

Sam was just as excited as Cas had been to be back at the bunker. Almost a full month stuck in the hospital and he had been ready to start climbing the walls. Dean had brought him a set of clothes to change into, and they swamped him now, but with the diet plan, Dean was sure he would be back to normal soon.

As normal as things got with the Winchesters.

While Dean had gone to pick Sam up, Cas and Kevin were tasked with hanging up the large 'WELCOME HOME!' banner and setting streamers all over the library and war room, even the banisters of the iron staircase.

If Sam teared up a little, well, no one was going to say anything. This time.

That night they had a huge dinner, and it almost felt like a Thanksgiving. Up until a certain point when Sam had glanced up at the ceiling.

"Hey, where'd that scorch come from?"

_Damn it!_

XxXx

A few days later, Dean was in his room. He'd just showered and had gotten dressed and was towel drying his hair when there was a knock at the door.

"Yeah?"

It was Kevin, and he looked pretty serious, and Dean guessed it was about whatever he had written in the notebook he was clutching to his chest.

"Uh, I wanted to come to you first with this, Dean."

"What is it?"

Dean sat on his bed and Kevin pulled the chair at the desk out. "I found a spell on the Angel Tablet. One calling for the heart of an angel and a human made one, an instrument to create love, and the Grace of a pure angel, one who loved humanity as much as God himself did."

"That's the spell Metatron used?"

Kevin nodded. "Yeah. Everything has to be used. Cas doesn't have a Grace to get back, otherwise this spell wouldn't have worked."

Dean sighed, half in resignation, half in relief. "I'll break the news to him later. Does it say anywhere about reversing the spell? Getting the angels back into Heaven?"

"Only an Archangel or God himself can undo this. It's pretty permanent, Dean."

"Okay. Good work, kid."

Dean stood up.

"How're you going to tell Cas?"

Dean shook his head. "I have no idea."

XXxx

Dean managed to procrastinate all day. He told Sam what Kevin had said, he made lunch, he replaced some light bulbs that had blown out, he tuned up the Impala, he waxed the Impala, he pruned the grass around the bunker door, he even started dusting some shelves in the library before Sam started giving him pointed looks and motioning to where the bedrooms were.

Dean knocked on Cas's door. He'd taken to bringing all the info the Men of Letters had gathered on angels and was looking through them in his room. He said it was quieter in there, away from the ruckus Kevin and Dean sometimes caused. "Come in."

Cas was hunched over his desk, as expected, leafing through a large file that was throwing dust up in the air.

"Cas, there's something we need to talk about."

He must have heard the seriousness in Dean's voice because he set the folder down and turned in his chair.

"What's going on?"

"Kevin found the spell on the tablet. The one Metatron used."

Cas perked up. "Okay, what did it say?"

Dean felt his heart break a little. "All the Grace has to be used, or the spell won't work. I'm…I'm sorry Cas, but you can't get it back."


	2. Denial

Chapter One: Denial

Cas's face froze. "No. That's wrong."

Dean looked exasperated for a second. "Come on Cas. You know Kevin can't be wrong reading these things."

"He translated incorrectly."

"No, you know he didn't. Look, I know you want to get powered back up, but you gotta face it. You're human now. And you're going to be for a long time."

Cas turned around in his chair. "There will be something in one of these files. I will keep looking."

"Cas…"

"Leave, Dean. I need to concentrate."

There was a moment of silence. "Yeah. Okay."

Cas heard the door click shut then waited a minute before his head sank into his hands.

What was he going to do now?

xxXX

A week later, and Cas had barely spoken to anyone. He kept to his room, coming out for meals and bathroom breaks and to get armfuls of more files. Sam said the denial was probably normal. He just had to keep working through it until he finally came to realize that the truth was he was human now.

Dean thought that was stupid.

Dean knocked on Cas's door and just walked in. Once more the familiar scene; Cas, files, dust in his hair.

"Come on Cas, you need to come with me."

"What for?" It was a defensive question, obviously he didn't like Dean interrupting his pointless research.

"Just come on." Dean dragged him out of the room by his elbow, but Cas didn't resist. He led him down to the shooting range, where he had arranged a small arsenal of the different guns that they usually used.

Cas huffed. "I don't need to know how to use firearms, Dean."

"If you ever go hunting with me and Sammy yes you do."

"I don't intend on going hunting. Not until I can be useful again."

Dean frowned. "You said you wanted to be a hunter."

"Yeah, when I had angel powers and could actually help people."

"Me and Sammy help people, don't we?"

Cas crossed his arms and didn't answer. "Okay, look. You're upset, I get it, I do. But I think it would help you to have something to concentrate on, other than burying yourself under half the library."

"Dean. I have to do that research. I have to find a way to get my Grace back."

"You mean the Grace that doesn't exist."

More sulking. "Come on. Shooting is real easy."

Cas gave in after a couple of minutes. "Fine. Show me how to shoot at the paper men."

Dean hadn't figured in that Cas still had casts on both wrists, but he didn't think it would put him off too much. He still had full use of his fingers.

First Dean showed him a hand gun, how to take the magazine out, how to put the safety on and off, how to load it, all the good stuff.

"Okay, now. Stand here. Stay straight. Aim where you want to hit. Okay, and pull the trigger."

Cas lowered the gun. "I did not mean to be aiming at the wall."

Dean chuckled. "Just try again. Both eyes open, remember."

This time he actually hit the paper. Nowhere near a target, of course.

"Practice'll make perfect, Cas."

XxxX

Over the next week, Dean managed to keep Cas occupied by learning different guns. It was made easier a couple days after the first lesson by the casts finally coming off. The skin under the casts was sickly pale looking and Cas actually seemed self-conscience about it, pointedly pulling his sleeves down over his hands. It was weird to see him so concerned about something like that, the guy who had taken a box-cutter to his chest without blinking.

When he had the full function of his hands, Cas got into learning the guns with the same gusto as he had been researching. Dean taught him all the different guns they had except for the sniper rifle, because just no, how they all worked, how to clean them correctly. There was almost an incident when Cas hadn't quite braced himself as much as Dean had told him too, and the kick-back from the shotgun knocked him on his ass. Dean had laughed at Cas' surprised face when he experienced getting the wind knocked out of him for the first time. There had almost been another incident when Cas reminded Dean that it was unwise to laugh at a man with a shotgun, but he was still winded, so it wasn't as threatening as it should have been.

After the guns, when Cas could actually hit a target where he meant to consistently, Dean decided to move on to different weapons. He had found a medium sized mostly empty room that would do good for practicing with knives and the machete, in case of vampires. Cas was much better at that, having used the angel sword for God knows how long.

And they practiced at hand-to-hand combat, which made Cas frustrated because a human body couldn't move as fast as he was used to. After some practice, though, Cas regained quite a bit of his reflexes. They quit with that after both Dean and Cas were bruised enough to be uncomfortable and Sam was laughing at them.

Dean had pretty much run out of distractions after he had literally gone through the entire arsenal in the trunk, and Cas could fight just about as well as he or Sam could. Cas returned to his file obsession. But at least he wouldn't be defenseless when he finally came to accept that he was human.

Then one day, a miracle occurred in the form of a phone call from Garth. There was a town in Florida where four unconnected women named Ashley had been gruesomely murdered. Too freaky to resist. Sam was still not running at a hundred percent, so he elected to hang back and do research from home if they needed it. He was mostly out of the bed now, and was sleeping about eight hours instead of sixteen, but he knew he would be basically useless in a fight, and the thought of sitting in the car for a long trip wore him out just thinking about it. He had to promise to eat plenty of meat while Dean was gone, and take the appropriate amounts of protein powder with every meal before he would tell Garth he and Cas would be on the job.

Dean went into Cas's room and tossed an empty duffle bag on his bed.

"Dean, what are you…"

"Pack up, man, we're headed for Florida."

Cas frowned. "What's in Florida?"

"Nasty murders, what else?"

"It's a hunt?"

Dean nodded, not being able to hide that he felt really excited. The perfect distraction and possibly a way to prove to Cas that he was still totally useful.

"Yeah. Sammy can't come, so it's just you and me. We ride at dawn."

Dean ran out of the room before Cas could make any complaints or refuse to go.

This was going to be awesome.

XxxX

Luckily, Charlie had sent all the stuff for Cas just a few days before. Dean had called and asked her to get some essentials; driver's license, a couple of scammed credit cards, in case of emergency only, and some fake ID badges. Dean got a faded old wallet out that he barely remembered still having and set it up for Cas. He was amused that the driver's license had him listed as 'Cas Novak'. She must have found Jimmy's name from those damn books of Chuck's. He made sure to slip a few bills into it, just in case, and a card with his, Sam's, Kevin's and Garth's phone numbers. He gave it to Cas and told him not to lose it.

The morning they left the bunker, they stopped at a mall they passed by to get Cas a Fed suit.

"Dean, don't think I don't know what you are doing," he muttered as Dean shoved him into a dressing room with a couple of suits.

"What're you talking about?" Dean sat down; this was probably going to take a while.

Cas's voice was muffled, working his way out of the ridiculous layers he wore to keep warm. "Taking me on this trip. You think my research is a waste of time and you want me to give up and accept my humanity."

"Yep. You got it. Never mind the Ashleys or that I don't like hunting alone."

"I'm next to useless, Dean. Sam would be more help to you."

Dean huffed. "You need practice, Cas. And you'll be loads of help. You always have been. You know, when you haven't been batshit insane. Or trying to take over the world one way or another."

"When I had powers. I was useful when I had powers."

"You'll see when you get there. This is gonna be good for you, man."

The door to the changing room opened. "You mean if I manage not to get either of us killed."

"Yeah, I…"

Dean looked up. The suit fit Cas good. It fit him real good. The lady going into the changing room next door carrying what looked like a bridesmaid's gown eyed him up and down, and it looked like she appreciated the view. Dean cleared his throat.

"Yeah. Looks good Cas."

He looked down at himself. "Are you sure? I feel kind of silly wearing this."

Dean was starting to feel a little uncomfortable. "Yeah, you'll, uh…get used to it. Change back and we'll wrap it up to go."

Cas turned to go back in the changing room. Okay, seriously uncomfortable now.

After he was back in his layers, they picked out a couple of ties and left the shop.

XxxX

They had been on the road for a couple of hours in silence. It wasn't a bad silence, and Cas was cool enough to tolerate whatever Dean found on the radio, unlike Sam who liked to bitch and moan.

After a while, Dean started telling Cas about the bands or musicians that were playing. Cas just listened to him talk, occasionally asking questions, but mostly watching out the window. When they passed road signs for places Dean had been with Sam, he would tell Cas what they did there, what they hunted.

After a few times of doing this, Cas smiled and looked over at him.

"Dean. You do know that I was assigned to watch over you ever since your birth?"

Dean swerved a little in the lane. "What?"

Cas chuckled, the first time Dean had heard him laugh since learning about his Grace. "My assignment was to watch over you, more or less from afar. They did not tell me why, and I never questioned my orders, but it was obvious you were important. There were times I was called away, in times of trouble, but I have witnessed a good deal of your life. That is why I was the one to pull you out of Hell. I was tuned into your soul more than any other angel, and I found you quickly."

"Oh. No, I didn't know that. Why'd I never know you were there?"

"Dean, you didn't even believe in angels, or a God until you were raised. How were you supposed to know? And as I said, I kept my distance. No interference."

There was a silent moment. "Do you remember the first time you ever prayed, Dean?"

Dean laughed, but it was forced. "Kinda hard to forget. I promised that Layla girl I would pray for her, and I did. God, she's probably been dead for…"

Cas interrupted. "She is married. Her husband's name is Eric. They have two children, a girl named Annie, and a son. Named Dean."

Dean looked over, and Cas had a small smile on his face. "You prayed for her life to be saved. Two months after you left her town, she went for a checkup and the tumor in her brain had completely disappeared. Her mother thanks the Heavens every day."

"That…That was you?"

"Yes. There were no orders not interfering with her, and Heaven wouldn't notice one small miracle."

"Why'd you never tell me?"

Cas sighed. "In the larger scheme of things, it never seemed to matter. Now, I understand it means a great deal."

Dean let go of the wheel with one hand and reached over and grabbed Cas' hand and squeezed it. "Cas, that means everything. Thank you."

xxXX

Hell hadn't really been hot. The pain, the terror caused most people to sweat, but really there was no true temperature. It just _was_.

Florida was what Hell was supposed to be. They say that shit about it's not the heat, it's the humidity, but in Florida it was both. And, of course, they got there in the middle of the day and breathing was enough to make you want to throw up.

Dean was seriously regretting not upgrading his Baby's AC system when he had had the chance. Even fully cranked it was still hot enough for Dean to have just stripped down to his undershirt and he was sticking uncomfortably to the back of the leather seat. Cas was even down to two layers, but he wasn't even sweating, the frozen bastard.

He pulled into a likely looking motel and parked while he got them checked in. The first thing Dean did when they got into their motel room was crank the old AC unit up as high as it would go.

"Ahh. That's better. Thank you, Jesus!"

Cas stood uncomfortably in the middle of the room, holding his duffle bag. "Dean, I am still not used to this. Which bed do you want?"

Dean hummed, basically lying on the unit. "You pick man. No, wait, you're a frost giant, I get the bed closest to this beauty."

Cas puttered around, unpacking and exploring the room and the attached bathroom.

"Dean?"

"Hmm?"

"The case of the multiple dead Ashleys? Perhaps we should begin working."

"Ugh, you're a slave driver, just like Sam."

Dean straightened up. "Fine, okay. I gotta take a shower. Do you need one?"

Cas shook his head. "Okay. Get changed into your Fed suit and we'll go down to the police station when I'm done."

xxXX

Dean had never hated anything in his life with such a consuming passion than he hated his Fed suit right now. Thankfully, the police station was not very far from the motel, and Dean managed to get a parking space near the door.

"Okay, now remember. You're learning, so let me do most of the talking. If you notice something I don't, let me know. And if you have any questions not related to the case, ask when we're alone, okay? Now, I'm Agent Clapton, you are Agent Harrison. Got it?"

He handed him the leather ID holder and made sure he knew which way it was supposed to go.

Cas nodded. "Clapton and Harrison. Got it."

The police station was mercifully cooler. Dean sighed in relief, and the secretary gave him a weird look.

"Hot out there," he explained leaning against the desk.

She looked unimpressed. "You must be from out of town. This is basically spring temperature. Tomorrow is supposed to be up five degrees."

Dean thought he might faint for a second.

"Can I help you?"

"Oh, yeah. I'm Agent Clapton, this is Agent Harrison. FBI. We're here about the serial murders."

They flashed the badges. Cas got it right this time.

The secretary looked confused. "Serial murders?"

"Yeah, gruesome, violent deaths of women named Ashley?"

She perked up. "Oh, the Ashley Angler! Yes, let me go get the Sherriff."

Cas glanced at Dean. "Ashley Angler?"

"I dunno, man, guess we'll find out in a minute."

The Sherriff was a big man, taller than Sam and built like a bear. He looked like he might be retired military.

"Hello, Agents. Sherriff Yates. I hear you're investigating the Ashley Angler?" He shook both their hands.

"Yes, sir. Why're they called that?"

"Well, the nearest we can tell, every victim has been murdered by a spear gun through the head, and then bludgeoned with something, we don't know what, but it's heavy."

Dean felt revolted. Maybe this hadn't been a great starter case. "Gross."

"Yeah. From the neck down the vics are just in pieces. No signs of forced entry to any of the houses. No connections. The two husbands have alibis, they were working. Other two lived alone. No evidence, fingerprints, hair, murder weapons. I'm actually really glad you two are here because this case has been driving me crazy. The only weird thing at all had been this black goop at all the houses."

Dean nodded. "Okay, so we'll need the case files and a sample of this goop. And we'd like to see the bodies."

Sherriff Yates nodded. "Rita here'll get the files. I'll take you to the morgue."

As they were walking down well-cooled hallways, the Sherriff turned to Cas.

"You're a quiet one, huh? Your partner does all the talking."

Dean went to open his mouth but Cas beat him. "I'm learning."

Sherriff Yates chuckled. "You liking it so far?"

They entered the morgue. "Besides the mutilated corpses of innocent girls, yes, I find this quite enjoyable."

Dean tried really hard not to laugh.

"Uh. Yeah. Well. Here you go. Knock yourselves out, Agents."

The Sherriff left and Dean snorted. "You know, you're really funny when you want to be."

"I was not aware I had made a joke."

Dean sighed. "Of course not."

He checked the name plaques on the wall. "Okay, Ashley Walker."

Dean pulled the tray out and pulled back the drapes. "Okay. Yep. Just like he said."

The head and neck were in one piece, except for a huge hole right under the chin going clear throughout to the top of the head. Everything else was basically mush.

"Man, it's almost like she exploded. There's just chunks here. Whatever did this was some seriously…Cas?"

Dean had been focused on the body. He turned around to look for Cas and found him holding onto the island in the middle of the room for support, his face a sickly green color.

"Cas?"

Dean covered the body back up and shut the door. "Hey, what's up?"

Cas looked like he was going to cry. "I never _had_ to smell before. Things that were unnecessary could be blocked out. And all that blood, Dean…"

Dean made what he thought were calming shush noises. "Okay, it's okay. Not everyone can stand it at first. Hell, Sammy's first morgue experience, I had to catch him before he cracked his head."

Now that the body was put away, some of the normal color was coming back to Cas's face. "I've seen so much blood, Dean. Why would it bother me now?"

Dean shrugged. "Like you said, maybe the smell? If you blocked it out before, it may just be affecting you more now. Or maybe certain human senses are different. Like, remember the coffee?"

Cas had to smile a little remembering the coffee, and Dean felt more confident that he wasn't going to pass out now. His first morning in the bunker, Dean had made coffee. Cas had admitted that during his Biggerson's exile, he had become fond of coffee. But as a human, that first sip was so different. It tasted so much better than anything he had ever put in his mouth before. He had said as much and Dean tried not to blush and Kevin nearly died laughing.

"So, maybe you're just re-experiencing things for the first time again."

Cas nodded. "Yes. I think you are right."

"Is it okay if I look at another one?"

"I am prepared this time."

"Okay. Ashley Voorhees."

Dean pulled the tray out. He checked on Cas, who had come to stand on the other side of the tray. He was pale, but he was steady. Dean lifted the drapes.

He sighed. "Exact same thing. Head, neck, smush."

Cas was examining this time. "How could this have happened, Dean?"

"I dunno, man. Vengeful spirit? But how is it moving? Cursed object? But why only Ashleys? We're gonna go check out the houses and talk to some people. Maybe that'll clear it up. Hopefully later, when it's not scorching."

They made their way back to the front, where a pile of case files and an evidence jar with black goo in it were waiting for them.

Dean handed a business card to the Sherriff. "Call if anything comes up. Thanks for your help."

"You boys have a good day."

XxxX

Back at the motel, Cas was looking through the files while Dean was about to open the jar and poke at it with a plastic spoon.

"Okay, Cas, what are you getting?"

Cas sounded frustrated. "Nothing. Like the Sherriff said, this is a mystery. The only clue is the one you have there."

"Well, I'm pretty sure this is ectoplasm. Which means this is one pissed-the-hell-off spirit. I've only seen a couple of cases where this stuff was generated."

"From the notes, they say it was dripping from the wall nearest the victim, they checked the walls but they were all sound."

"Awesome."

"So what do we do next?"

Dean huffed. "I don't want to go out there yet, but we should go to the houses. There has to be something missing here."

Cas brought the files with them on the drive to the first victim's house.

"Ashley Richardson. She was 24. Lived alone. No family in town. When she didn't show up to work and didn't answer her phone, co-workers called the police. She worked at a real estate firm. The last person to see her was her boyfriend, Gary, who was at her apartment the night she died. But then another friend, Anne, called her after he left and they talked so it wasn't Gary."

Dean pulled up outside Ashley's apartment complex just as Cas was finished reading. "Okay, well, let's see what we can find."

It was a nice little apartment. It was in a new building so everything was very modern. It wasn't decorated much, like the girl who lived here was just visiting, kinda the way Cas was refusing to do anything to his room.

Dean turned on the EMF detector. It immediately went all red.

"Whoa. Weird."

Cas was looking around. "Is that anomalous?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "Yeah, it's freakin' anomalous."

"Just because you're hot doesn't mean you need to be bitchy."

He felt a numb feeling go through his head, because, _did Cas just tell him he was hot_, and then he remembered that Cas meant he was hot in the of-course-they-turned-off-the-power-and-therefore- the-AC-to-her-room way.

"They found Ashley here," Cas was saying, standing next to an end table with a drawer on it, "and they found the ectoplasm leaking here." Cas patted the wall behind him, consulting the case file.

Dean opened up the drawer, pulling it all the way out. "Aha! Yahtzee!"

He held out what was obviously a hex bag.

Cas just tilted his head in confusion. "Why is a vengeful ghost leaving hex bags?"

XxxX

As it turned out, all four houses had hex bags in them.

"It's a ghost witch. A witch ghost." Dean was pacing in front of the AC unit. "Freakin' witches! But how is a ghost making these hex bags, then placing them? How does it travel?"

Cas was sitting at the small table looking at the disassembled bags. "A ghost this powerful could easily possess a person. If the person touched whatever is grounding this ghost, then they could possess them as long as they needed. Long enough to make a hex bag then place it and perform the ritual."

"Yeah, but no one close to any of the victims reported any loss of time, and they would have noticed that much."

"Maybe it is just possessing one person, then."

"But none of these girls were connected. No one would have been in all four places."

Cas shrugged. "Maybe a maintenance worker?"

"Maybe…Or maybe this ghost is so powerful, that it could make and place the bags by itself, without being carried by an object or possessing someone. I've never seen one that powerful before, though."

Dean sat down across from Cas and set up the laptop Sam had let him bring along. It was an older one of Sam's. 'It's slow from all those Asian porn viruses, but it still works,' he had said.

"I think we should try to find out who this might be. That may be more helpful."

For a while they worked in silence, Cas learning what he could from the hex bags, and Dean slowly researching on the Internet.

"What're you finding, Cas?"

"Not much to go on. It's modern work, I know that. Someone who was perhaps not a very powerful witch in life, but death and anger has made it stronger. There's nothing here suggesting that it may be anyone ancient, or from another culture."

"Okay, I think I may have found something. Ten years ago, a woman was murdered here. Same scenario. A spear through the head and the body beaten to a huge pulp. Her name was Mason, and it was her sister who committed the murder."

Cas moved his chair around to see. "Does it say why?"

Dean read on. "Uh, yeah. Mason had just returned from her honeymoon. She had eloped to Vegas then went on a cruise. The man she eloped with, two weeks earlier, had been her sister's fiancé. Mason's sister's name- Ashley."

"Are there more details? Where the murder took place?"

"Uhm…Ashley ambushed Mason, knocked her out. Took her to an abandoned house on the outskirts of town. Mason tried to fight back; Ashley grabbed a decorative spear off the mantelpiece, stabbed her, and then…beat her repeatedly with a small sledge hammer."

Dean clicked around. "Okay. They did cremate the body, what parts they could salvage from that old house, but there's probably some bits and blood sticking around. And yeah, this Mason girl was definitely a witch. There was the thing with her sister's fiancé, but there were also a few lotteries, she won a bunch of contests…There's more here than just really good luck."

Cas frowned. "But why now? Why did she just randomly start attacking Ashleys?"

"Well, it takes a few years for a spirit to get vengeful. Her sister is still in jail, so I don't know. I think she just stewed and stewed until she got so twisted by her anger that she became this…thing. And the last thing she truly remembers is rage at a woman named Ashley."

"We have to go burn that house down, don't we?"

Dean grinned. "See? You're a natural."

XxxX

Dean took a nap so that they could go burn the house in the dead of the night, when there was less chance of getting caught. He'd suggested that Cas take a nap as well, but he did not feel tired. In truth, Cas only slept when he absolutely had to. He did not like sleeping as a human. It made him feel vulnerable, and he often experienced nightmares. Usually he was in Naomi's office. It reeked of disinfectant and the smell often stayed with him after he woke up. He also frequently dreamed of killing Dean, in practice as he had done in Heaven. It still felt instinctive, like it was something he was supposed to do. When he woke up, the feeling was gone, but it worried him. Cas was frightened that being too close to Dean would result in harm to his friend, and that was something he could not permit to happen. Not on his account. But it would eventually. It always did.

Cas looked over at Dean, sleeping quietly. He was at peace, and Cas felt a familiar warm feeling spread through him knowing this. The warm feeling had been happening more and more often around Dean. Dean, who seemed to have forgiven him _again_, Dean who was trying to help him be more and more human. Dean who had professed to needing him.

But that was before. He doubted Dean needed him anymore, not in the same way.

Cas was still watching him when Dean's eyes fluttered open. There was that warm feeling again.

"You know, that's even creepier now that you're human."

"What is?"

"Watching me in my sleep."

Cas felt embarrassed, a newer emotion he hadn't quite come to terms with yet. "I apologize. I suppose it's a force of habit by now."

Dean stretched. "Twelve thirty, I think we can go now. Did you sleep any?"

Cas shook his head. "I find I don't need much sleep, even as a human."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Yeah, like I believe that. We'll talk about it later. Come on, let's go light up this place."

XXxx

The house was on the far out reaches of the town. It was extremely derelict, the outside mostly rotten, the roof was caved in in some places, and the yard was grown over.

Dean and Cas got out of the car and went to the trunk. Dean hauled a couple bags of road salt out and a couple gallons of kerosene, and then opened the arsenal. He loaded two shotguns with salt rounds and then stuck a handful of extras in his pocket then handed more to Cas, then handed him one of the guns. He also handed him a hand gun and took one for himself.

Dean grabbed an iron crowbar then shut the trunk. "This is a really powerful ghost, Cas. We aren't taking any chances. Hopefully she won't show up, but if she does, you know what to do, right?"

"Yes, I understand, Dean."

They carried all their supplies across the weed-full yard, and carefully went into the house, watching out for rotten areas of the floor. The first thing Dean did was make a salt circle near the door. "Safe zone," he declared. "Since she was killed here, in this room, I think we should just do this one. The rest will probably go up pretty soon, as shitty as it is."

Dean and Cas started salting and keroseneing the large living room. It was going good, until Cas got in front of the fireplace on the other side of the room. He felt cold and could suddenly see his breath form in front of him.

"Dean. It's cold"

"You're always cold."

"No. It's _cold_."

Dean immediately jumped in the circle, which he was closer to. "Cas, get over here, quick!"

Cas made it about halfway across the room before he stopped, looking like he had been jolted.

"Cas?"

He just stood where he had stopped, and stretched out his neck. There was a bizarre grin on his face, freakishly reminding Dean of when the Leviathans had finally taken over Cas's body.

He stretched up onto his toes. "Ohh, I _like _this body!"

It was Cas's voice, but it definitely was not him speaking. He looked down at himself. "Oh, yeah, this one will definitely work."

"Cas?"

Cas looked up at him with an extremely uncharacteristic bitch-face. "Not even close, sweetheart."

"Mason."

"Ohh, you boys did your research! Nice work."

"Let Cas go."

There was an eerie laugh. "Yeah, no. Oh, he's fighting in here, your Castiel."

Dean noticed a bit of blood trickling out of Cas's nose. Yeah, he was fighting her, alright.

He grimaced. "Too bad though. I'm keeping a hold of his body until you agree not to burn me."

Dean shook his head. "No deal, lady." He was thinking about what to do. He could try and throw the crowbar; if it hit Cas, Mason would be thrown out, but it was heavy and he was too far away. Cas could easily step aside from it. He had his shotgun in his hands, but he really didn't want to have to do that to Cas. He knew from experience it hurt like a son of a bitch.

Cas was grasping at his head. Blood mixed with ectoplasm was pouring out of his nose now. He laughed again.

"Angel, you're losing. I can feel you getting tired in there. Just give up…"

Cas jerked again. "Dean, quick…"

"What?"

"Do something! Please!"

He jerked again as Mason took control again.

"He's totally in love with you, did you know that, Dean?"

Dean felt cold all over. _Crap_.

"Yeah, he hasn't fully accepted it yet. He's afraid of you…Afraid of these _feelings_." Another witchy cackle.

"Oh, he's _screaming_ now…"

Dean cocked the gun. "Sorry about this, Cas."

The round hit him right in the chest and Mason shot backwards out of Cas's body, screeching as she left. Cas was knocked back onto the floor, gasping for breath. Dean jumped out of the circle and picked Cas up under his arms and mostly dragged him to the safe zone. He was shaky on his feet, but Dean thought he could stand on his own for a minute.

"You're alright, Cas. Just give me a minute and we're getting the hell outta here."

Dean was flicking his lighter when the wind started. "_Shit_. Seriously?"

Dean was so focused on trying to get the fire started, he didn't notice the salt line eroding.

He heard the now creepily familiar laugh right behind him. Dean jumped and turned around. Cas was steady now. Mason was driving again. He waved his hand and Dean flew across the room, banging into the fireplace mantle. He groaned and sat up, freezing.

Mason had pulled the hand gun out of the back of Cas's jeans. The nose bleed had started up again, heavier and smearing his face black and red.

"You're more trouble than you're worth, Dean Winchester."

He aimed the gun. Dean noticed one of Cas's eyes had become really bloodshot. His hand shook a little then steadied. He pulled the trigger.

Dean felt a piercing pain in his right arm. He clutched at it and groaned in pain. He hadn't hit a bone or anything, it had just hit muscle. Looked like Mason wasn't a good shot. "God _damnit_!"

He looked back up at Cas and was a little shocked. Cas had taken back control. He was shaking and looking around like he had completely forgotten where he was.

"Cas. Cas! Snap out of it!"

Cas looked at him. "Dean, what…"

He was panting; Dean knew the symptoms of an oncoming panic attack just as well as anyone. "Cas, focus…"

Just then, Cas seemed to come back to himself. He shook his head and aimed the gun at the floor and shot. The fire finally started. There was an ear-splitting scream, and Mason flew out of Cas again, disappearing in the familiar burst of flames.

Dean got to his feet. Cas was weirdly pale and looked like he was going to pass out or burst into tears.

"Come on, Cas, we need to leave."

"Dean, I didn't…."

"Come on. We need to go." He grabbed Cas's wrist with the hand not covering the bullet wound and pulled him out of the house, not letting go until they got to the car.

xXxX

They made a pitiful pair walking into the motel room, Dean with blood dripping down his arm and Cas with his face and throat smeared with blood and ecto. He was still really out of it, so Dean continued to lead him by the wrist, grabbing the first aid kit and the 'medicinal' whiskey out of his bag on the way to the bathroom. Dean had Cas sit on the side of the bath tub.

"Cas? Hey, man, I need you to focus."

Cas just kind of blinked at him. "Cas, I need your help. I'm hurting, okay? You need to help me."

Cas actually managed to focus. "What?"

Dean sat on the closed toilet lid, and took a quick swallow of the whiskey. "Dude, what did that bitch do to you?"

Cas sighed, and a tear slid down his face.

_Oh. Oh, no. No crying. I can't handle crying._

"I'm sorry Dean. I tried to stop her, I promise."

Dean unconsciously grabbed a hold of Cas's wrist again, squeezing gently. "I know. I know you did. You remember it all, huh?"

Cas just nodded, eyes trained on his knees.

"Well, we can talk about it later. Look, I really do need you right now…"

Dean took his shirts off, trying to get a look at the hole in his upper arm.

Cas covered his mouth. "Oh, _God_, I _shot _you!"

"No, that bitch shot me. But I can't get this bullet out on my own. So I need you to stay calm and give me a hand."

Dean managed to talk him through it. There was a good deal of half-mangled screaming, and Cas silently cried the whole time and his hands shook, but fifteen minutes later and Dean's arm was bullet-free, stitched and bandaged up.

"Fwhoo." Dean reached over and grabbed the whiskey bottle, knocking back a couple more mouthfuls. "Let's not do that again, huh?"

Cas had sat back down and was staring at his knees again. Dean sighed and got up, turning on the sink to let the water get warm and grabbing a few washcloths, first washing the blood off his own hands and his arm.

"Okay. You gotta look up for me." Dean sat on the toilet, facing Cas. They were close enough their knees were bumping against each other. Dean had to reach under Cas's chin and pulled his face up. He started washing off the blood and the ectoplasm that had gotten smeared around his face and down his throat. Cas kept his eyes closed.

"You probably got a killer headache, huh?"

Cas finally opened his eyes. They were still glossy and teary, but that only served to make them bluer. Dean started feeling the same kind of uncomfortable as he had in the suit shop.

"Yes, actually. The witch was very powerful."

"I got something for that."

Dean kept washing his face. "You did a really good job in there, you know."

Cas gently shook his head. "I got possessed by a witch and almost killed you. I don't consider that a 'good job'."

"Well. I do. And since I'm the boss of you, you can't argue with me."

Cas managed a small smile. "You are not the boss of me."

"I'm the boss of everybody."

There was a brief silence. But Dean knew they couldn't ignore it forever.

"So. Are we gonna talk about what that witch said?"

Cas immediately pulled back from Dean, and almost fell back into the bathtub.

"No. No, we are not."

"I think we are."

Cas looked up at the celling, like he was praying. "Dean. I…It's nothing personal. But there is nothing to talk about. The witch lied. I feel for you the same way you…feel for Sam. It is not a romantic love."

"Oh."

Cas tilted his head. "That disappoints you?"

"Well. No. Not…exactly."

Cas's eyebrows shot up. "_You_ have romantic feelings towards me. You hoped that what the witch said was true and we could engage in human intimacies!"

Was it hotter than it had been before? It felt hotter.

"_Human intimacies_? No! Look, I wasn't hoping for anything. But yeah. Maybe I feel differently for you. Maybe it's that 'profound bond' thing. It's just…You're always gonna be special to me Cas."

Cas became still and let Dean get another warm cloth. After it had dried, blood could be a bitch to clean off, and some of the black ecto goop that had dribbled out made Dean uncomfortably remember the Leviathan again.

"You did not want me to get my Grace back," Cas muttered after Dean started on his throat again.

Dean paused. "No. It's selfish, and I get that. But Cas, you gotta stop running from me. From us. I…I told you I needed you and it's still true. You getting your Grace back would mean you being locked in Heaven. And no, I don't want that. I never wanted that, even before...Just didn't know what to say."

Dean was refusing to look Cas in the eye during any of this. The few sips he'd had of the whiskey was not near enough to make this conversation okay.

"Because I am special to you?"

Dean had already gotten up and rinsed out one of the cloths so he could work on Cas' hands, which were smeared, too, but with Dean's blood. He managed to look at him now.

"Yeah. 'Cause of that."

After Cas was blood and goop free, Dean made a motion with his hands. "Come on. Shirts off."

He almost laughed at how all the blood paled from Cas' face and then went back up, making him blush. It was still so weird when he got embarrassed by something.

"Why?"

"Dude, I shot you, too, remember? I know it was just rock salt, and nothing probably got through the massive layers you wear, but I know it still hurts, so let me take a look."

Cas looked like he was almost going to fall back into the tub again, but he slowly started taking things off. The jacket, the t-shirt, the long-sleeved Henley, and then the undershirt. Dean had painfully put his own t-shirt back on, so maybe Cas wouldn't be so nervous.

But Cas wasn't able to get the last two shirts off himself, grunting in pain, and finally just letting Dean do it. Dean was able to gently pull the shirts off over Cas' head, trying to keep any of the material from touching his chest.

The entirety of his chest and even down to his lower abdomen was a raw looking reddish color, but nothing was bleeding. Dean leaned closer from where he had perched again on the toilet lid.

"This is gonna sting, man. Sorry in advance."

He had gotten a fresh cold cloth and dabbed at the rawest looking areas. Cas hissed and flinched, but didn't fall back.

"Okay. I don't think anything needs bandaging. No open places. But you'll be uncomfortable for the next few days, I can tell you that. And there's probably gonna be bruises."

Cas just nodded, and stared at the floor, picking up his clothes. "Dean."

"Yeah?"

"I find that…It is harder to say things. But, I think you are special to me as well."

Cas glanced up and he was happy he did. Dean was smiling at him, the care-free smile that few people rarely saw. It was almost like seeing his soul again. Cas understood now, the phrase about something taking your breath away.

"And I plan on…sticking around. For as long as you will have me."

Dean leaned up against the bathroom door. "So you're giving up on the angels?"

Cas sighed. "Dean, I believe the time of the angels is over. What is left of my kind must learn to acclimate, and I could not help them with that. Not as a God, and now not as a human. They must figure things out for themselves now. Besides, I imagine most of the ones left would be wrathful should they know that I was responsible for the fall of Heaven."

He stood up. "As you have said, you and Sam are my family. And my place is with you." Cas could not forget the number of times he had left Dean, or betrayed him. "I will not leave your side again."

Dean felt his own face getting hotter now. "Well. Uh, that means, it means a lot Cas."

He turned and walked into the main room, pulling a bottle of Advil out of a bag. Cas had followed him. "Here. Take about three of these. It should help with the witch hangover."

Cas popped into the bathroom to get some water for the pills and Dean sank onto the side of his bed, sighing. With this being the first hunt in a long while, he'd forgotten how emotional the aftermath could be. Especially with a dude with his training wheels still on.

Dean flopped back and lay down, everything catching up, and even with the nap he was beyond ready to go to sleep. He heard Cas creep back into the room and settle on the other bed.

"Cas?"

"Yes, Dean?"

"Why don't you think you need to sleep?"

Cas was quiet for a minute. "There are unpleasant dreams. I prefer not to have them."

Dean chuckled. "Yeah, I get having nightmares. But not sleeping will really mess with you. I wish I could help you out with them, but I still get nightmares. Hell…Purgatory. Just, try closing your eyes and thinking of something that makes you happy. Then take a bunch of deep breaths until you fall asleep. Sometimes it helps. And, hey, I'm right over here. You can wake me up, I don't care."

"Thank you, Dean."

"No problem. 'Night, Cas."

"Goodnight."

XxxX

And when Dean woke up just after dawn, Cas was still huddled under his covers, sleeping soundly.


	3. Anger

Chapter Two: Anger

About a week after Dean and Cas returned to Kansas, successful from their mission, Kevin called a 'meeting'.

He set three large, plain looking folders and the two stone tablets down on the kitchen table Sam, Dean, and Cas were sitting at.

"Here it is. My magnum opus."

Kevin rolled his eyes at Dean's blank expression. "It means 'great work'. Everything's translated."

There was a second or two of a kind of silent awe as they all looked at the pile.

"So what now?" Sam broke the silence.

"Now, I am going to take these folders. All the information from all three tablets are in these. I'm gonna hide them in different rooms of the bunker, hopefully where no one will ever find them. And you guys are gonna sit right here at this table while I do that. I put a web cam on top of the refrigerator and linked it to my phone. If any of you move, I'll know about it."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Dude, all that time you were on Garth's boat made you over paranoid."

"Never thought I'd hear you tell someone off for being too paranoid."

"Shut up, bitch."

"Jerk."

"Kevin. What are you going to do with the tablets?"

Cas had been quiet since they got back home. He said he was working on a project that Sam had asked him to help with, but neither of them were very forthcoming about it.

Kevin rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm a…I'm leaving. I'm going to break the tablets into five or six pieces and scatter them across the country, hopefully where they will never be found. One day maybe I'll get to the Leviathan tablet and can do the same to it."

"Then what are you going to do? Back to school?"

Dean grinned at him. "It's what you've been wanting, kid."

He just shrugged. "I dunno. I think you were right, Dean. You don't leave this life. Maybe I'll hook up with Garth. He's still hunting, and I know he kept talking about wanting a partner."

He grabbed up the three folders. "I'll be back. And I'm watching." Kevin waved his phone at them then headed down into the bowels of the bunker.

Dean chucked and leaned over to pick up the paper he'd grabbed from the store that morning. "Garth and Kevin. Hunting. Together. God, I hope one day I get to see that."

Cas pulled out the largish red book he had been writing in for the last few days. "Hey, is that the project?"

Dean had been really curious about it. Cas just looked at Sam and started writing.

"I thought it would be cool if Cas could put some stuff down for us. You know, stuff he remembers. How history _really_ happened. Could be useful one day."

Cas was intent on the book. Dean knew that this was Sam's own way of distracting Cas from what was going on, a way to get his mind on something else.

"Hey, that's awesome. Just don't put anything about me in there, okay?"

He shrugged his shoulders and kept on writing. "Why not? You're the most important person I have ever met in my existence."

Dean just looked at his face, unmoved from the journal, jaw hanging open, looking like a land-dropped fish. Sam really resented Kevin right now because he would dearly like to be in another room.

Cas finally looked up. "Along with you, too, Sam, of course. Was that rude?"

He had gotten better about picking up on atmospheres in rooms, but still wasn't good at knowing what they meant. He thought Sam's awkwardness was from not being included as one of the most important people Cas had ever met.

"No. No, 'course not, Cas. You're fine." Sam smiled at him, hoping to be reassuring. Dean had disappeared behind the paper and Cas took back to writing. So only Sam noticed that Dean never turned a page.

xXXx

For a couple of days, it felt kind of empty in the bunker without Kevin around. True, he had usually just been in the library, but when he had taken breaks he was fun to hang out with now that he wasn't so high strung.

But now he was off dropping the Word of God down wells, or whatever, and the bunker seemed different.

Dean got a call from Garth a few days after Kevin left. It sounded like a simple Rougarou case, and Sammy was pretty eager to start hunting again. The town was only a couple states over, so Dean asked Cas if he would be okay on his own for a little while.

Cas had been different since they got back from Florida. He was almost kind of stand-offish, especially around Dean, and he didn't say much, even when asked a question. He'd also started going on walks through the bunker, and he would disappear for a long time before resurfacing, still carrying around his book.

He assured Dean he could survive by himself. He had been human for a while now, and he wasn't a child.

So Dean and Sam went, Cas waving goodbye to them from the parking area in front of the bunker.

Dean watched him from the rearview mirror before he turned a corner, and Cas was gone.

XxxX

Besides Dean being a little distracted by worrying whether or not Cas was doing okay, the Rougarou hunt was successfully completed in three days, with some bruises and a scratch up the side of Sam's face being the only injuries.

Sam had really enjoyed himself. It had felt so great to get out of the bunker, and away from Dean obsessing about his diet, and eating crappy diner salads again. He really felt alive for the first time in months. It was awesome.

Sam was sitting in a booth waiting on their food while Dean had popped off to the bathroom. They were on their way back home and he practically had to beg Dean to stop for food. Dean seemed to think they needed to be back at the bunker ASAP. Sam thought it was ridiculous. Cas could totally handle himself for a few days. Although he had made sure not to tell Dean about the few horribly misspelled texts he'd gotten asking to be reminded exactly how the stove was supposed to turn on and that there was a really bad thunderstorm and did that mean he was supposed to hide in a closet.

When they got back, Sam was going to remind himself to teach Cas how to text. He wished Dean had gotten him a phone with an actual keypad, but when it came to Cas and technology, simpler was better.

The food came and Dean came back to the table a minute later. They ate in silence for a while, until Dean set his half-eaten burger down and started to fidget.

Sam kept eating. "What's up?"

"Uh. You know, that thing we said at the hospital? A couple of days after you woke up?"

Sam rolled his eyes. It was something Dean would have categorized as a chick flick moment, and he was actually surprised Dean had brought it up at all, thinking he would repress it. After the almost devastating results of the trials, Dean and Sam had agreed that, to keep their relationship together, both as brothers and as partners, they had to promise complete honesty in the future. Dean had done most of the talking, halting a lot and staring at the ceiling, and Sam was still too weak to laugh at him, but he really wanted to. But they had promised each other. So this must mean Dean had something he needed to tell him.

"Yeah, I remember. What's going on?"

Dean was pointedly looking everywhere that wasn't Sam. "The Florida hunt, the one me and Cas went on. Something, kinda-sorta, but not really happened."

Sam sighed and just rolled his eyes. He _knew_ they'd both been funky since they got back, but he wasn't going to ask. "Okay."

"Okay. Well, uh, that ghost-bitch was possessing Cas, and she told me that he was in love with me." Dean said it all really quick.

Well, duh, there was news to nobody. "Uh huh."

"Don't be surprised or anything," Dean finally snapped.

"Dude, I'm not. As a third party observer, it can be really uncomfortable to be in the same room as you two sometimes."

Dean actually looked confused. "Huh? Why?"

"'Cause of the sexual tension, dumb-ass," he answered around a mouthful of salad.

His brother turned red. It was kinda cute. "No. There is no…There's not any of that going on. Ever, like, I'm not even…And he said it wasn't true later. And…Just shut up, Sam!"

This was actually turning adorable. "Yeah, because Cas doesn't know how to lie. And I know you don't swing that way, but Cas is a special case."

Dean didn't bother denying anything this time. "What do you mean, special case?"

Sam shrugged. "You're attracted to women. You _aren't_ attracted to men. But you _are_ attracted to Cas. He's, like, the exception. You fell in love with his personality first and now you're doing…Actually, I don't wanna know what you're doing, just keep it out of the common areas."

Dean flushed again. "Dude. There is no…doing."

"Maybe that's the problem," Sam mumbled, but Dean was too busy glaring at his hamburger to hear him.

A minute or two later, after Dean had eaten some more, he asked, "So, you think Cas likes me?"

Jesus, what was this, middle school? He thought about being a smart-ass, but decided against it. "Yeah, Dean. I think he really likes you."

Sam was proud of the level of sarcasm he'd kept out of his tone.

"So…It's not gonna bother you?"

"What?"

"Me and Cas…Maybe being a thing. One day, in the far off future."

Sam couldn't help himself. "Dean. You and Cas have been 'maybe a thing', since about a month after you met. Yeah, I'm used to the idea by now."

xxXX

They had stopped at a rest area because Sam had started bitching about having to pee, and to be honest, Dean wanted some chips. They were only a couple hours from the bunker, so while Sam was gone, Dean pulled out his phone to call Cas.

It rang a few times. "Hello?"

"Hey, Cas. Sam and me are about two hours out."

"Okay."

Something was weird with his voice, like he was angry or frustrated.

"Everything okay there?"

"Yes." It was clipped. Something had pissed him off.

"Uhm. Alright. See you soon."

There was a pause and Cas' voice was slightly softer. "Drive carefully, Dean. Goodbye."

Then the phone clicked off. Dean stared at it a while until he saw Sam walking over to the car from across the parking lot.

"Alright, Sammy. Let's get home."

XxxX

Even though it had been an easy hunt, it was still Sam's first after having nearly died, and Dean knew he was tired. He fell asleep about ten minutes after leaving the rest stop. Dean turned the radio down to where he could just barely hear it, and kept on driving.

When he pulled over to the side of the road, and saw that Cas had turned the outside light on for them, Dean felt a wave of relief wash over him. Now that he had one, every time he realized he was _home_, it was the best feeling he could remember having in a long time.

He poked at Sam, who grunted at him irritably. "What?"

"We're home. Let's go in so you can get in bed." Sam groaned, whether it was relief or irritation at having to walk all the way to his room, Dean wasn't sure.

Sam went right in, and Dean followed with their bags. He closed and locked the door behind him, and flicked off the outdoor light, just dropping the bags for now. They'd deal with them later.

Cas was sitting at a table in the library, picking at his cuticles and he looked like was angry and anxious.

"Well, we're back."

Cas tried to smile. "Hello Dean. Yes, I saw Sam go to his room. Is he okay?"

"Fine. It'll take him a while to get back into the swing of things. I think he's just wore out."

He nodded, still picking. "Okay, what's wrong?"

"I…I made a mistake."

Well, that sounded vaguely ominous. "What kind of mistake?"

Cas stood up and pushed his chair back under the table. "I'll show you."

He definitely sounded pissed off, but Dean could tell it was at himself, not at him, which was a relief. Cas led him into the kitchen and sighed heavily before picking a pan off of the stove. The outside and bottom looked fine, but the inside was charred and there was some lumpy blackened ick.

"Dude, what did you do?"

Cas turned that look of anger at Dean, and he resisted taking a step back. He hadn't realized it yet, but even without his Grace, Cas still managed to look all Heavenly wrathful, and Dean was reminded of when Cas had threatened to throw him back into Hell.

"Look, Cas, it's alright. I'm not gonna laugh at you, just tell me what happened."

The wrath dimmed and he turned it instead to the pan in his hand. "I tried to make eggs. Like you do sometimes for breakfast."

"Alright. How'd you start?"

Cas set the pan on the counter. "I cracked the eggs in a bowl, like I've seen you do. And I threw away the shells. And I mushed them up with a fork."

Dean nodded. "So far so good."

"Then I sprayed the pan…"

"Huh? I usually use butter, and I didn't know we had any cooking spray."

Cas tilted his head and turned around and opened the cupboard under the sink. This couldn't be good. Dean turned every effort he had into not laughing, no matter what. This had clearly affected Cas, and he had promised. No mocking.

He turned around. "I remember Daphne making eggs. And she always used a spray. This is the only kind I could find, and it looked the same."

It was air freshener.

Dean only just managed to behave himself. "Well, everyone is a little different the way they cook. Uhm. But the stuff under the sink isn't cooking stuff. That's usually cleaning stuff. Only use the stuff in the pantry and the refrigerator to cook with."

Cas pointed at the can in Dean's hand. "Then what's that?"

"Well…It _is_ a spray. But it's air freshener."

"Oh. I thought it smelled odd."

Dean smiled, and put the can back under the sink. "Okay. Then what did you do?"

"I put the eggs in the pan and turned the stove on."

"What setting did you put it on?"

Cas turned and pointed at the dial on the front of the stove that read 'HIGH'. "I thought the highest setting would cook the eggs the fastest."

Dean just shook his head. "They're kinda delicate, and it depends on how you're making them. If you were doing a fried egg it would've been perfect."

"Uhm…Okay. Well, I went to get a plate out. I suppose I shouldn't have turned my back on the stove. I looked back around and there was some smoke. I turned it off, but…"

He picked the pan up and turned it so Dean could see the damage again. "I'm very sorry for ruining this…"

Dean scoffed. "It's not ruined. Those pans'll last forever. Here, I'll show you."

He snatched it out of Cas's hand and turned to the sink. "Big gobs of this stuff…" He poured some liquid dish soap in the pan. "And some really hot water…And let it soak overnight and in the morning I'll take one of these scrub brushes to it and it'll be like new. Or, as new as it was sixty years ago."

Cas looked guiltily around the kitchen. "So…I did not destroy anything?"

"Hell no. Not even close."

"That's good to know. Thank you, Dean."

"Hey. Tomorrow morning, I'll make eggs, and I'll walk you through it. How's that?"

Cas shifted and frowned at the ground. "Okay. That sounds fine."

Dean took a couple steps closer. "You alright, man?"

"I'm fine. Just tired. I've been working on the journal most of the day. I think I will go to bed now."

Cas immediately left the kitchen and Dean just stood there awhile, wondering what might be going on.

xxXX

Over the next couple of days, Dean and Sam both noticed the change in how Cas was acting. He had gotten worse over the time that they had been gone on their hunt.

Sam was the first to catch on that Cas became particularly irritated when one of the brothers tried to teach how to improve on something, or learn something new. He really noticed it when he sat down with Cas in the library and started teaching him how to text properly.

After he listened to Sam explain how the buttons worked, and sent a few test texts to Sam's phone, he disappeared in an angry silence to wherever it was in the bunker he went to hide at. Sam figured it was just frustration getting the better of him.

It was Dean, predictably, who made the levee break almost a week after they got back.

The morning had been wonderfully sunny, but by the middle of the day clouds started building and soon it was gently raining. Sam had gone to take a nap. He'd been up most of the night, translating some ancient Babylonian text he'd found in one of the rooms. Cas still retained all the languages he knew, and could've just read it off for him, but Sam wanted to translate it on his own. Stubborn ass.

Dean was busy trying to fix the sink in the kitchen. It had started dripping a few days before and it was getting on his nerves. Drip, drip, drip, until he insisted he could hear the dripping from behind his closed bedroom door.

He heard some movement out in the front room and sat up from under the sink. It was boring, and he wouldn't mind company while he was working, even though Cas was being all mopey and ticked off.

He came out and Cas was standing next to the door, a leather messenger bag he recognized as one of Sam's strapped across his chest, his trench coat draped over his arm, and he was looking at the ancient umbrellas that stood near the door.

"Hey, Cas."

He obviously hadn't heard Dean walk in, because he gave a little jump at his voice and turned around. "Hello Dean. I thought you were in the kitchen."

"Yeah. I was. Just wanted to know if you didn't mind hanging out with me. Kinda boring, working on plumbing."

Cas narrowed his eyes. "I wouldn't know."

He chose an umbrella from the stand.

"Are you going somewhere?"

Cas didn't look at him. "Out."

Dean started feeling frustrated. "Yeah. Where are you going to go?"

"I just told you. _Out_."

"_Out_ where?"

Cas dumped both the coat and the umbrella down. "It is none of your business, Dean! I can go where and when I want. I am not your prisoner to keep in this bunker, just for the sake of your selfish abandonment issues! If I want to go, I can go!"

Dean felt like he'd been slapped. Did Cas really feel that way? That he was being kept here against his will?

"Well, do you _want_ to leave? Hook up with Kevin, or something? 'Cause if you want to leave, leave. I figured you would, just like you always do. And never saying goodbye, you fucking coward. Just like old times."

Dean felt a tear roll down his face, but he refused to acknowledge it. "You know what, screw you! Get out! _GO_!"

Cas' face had turned red and he was actually shaking with rage. "_Fine_. I will."

He yanked the door open, and snatched up the umbrella. "And screw you, too."

The door slammed shut and it echoed like a death toll.

Dean walked up the stairs and picked up the trench coat that Cas had left behind. _Again_. He sank down on the top step and started crying harder. It smelled like the coconut shampoo Cas used and the must of ancient books.

After a few minutes, Dean felt someone sit next to him.

"I heard screaming. Came out to see what was up."

Dean swallowed and made sure the tears were off his face before he looked up.

"I fucked up, Sammy. Told him to leave and he went."

Sam put his arm around his brother's shoulders. "He'll come back. Cas always does."

XxxX

It was five hours later, and the rain had picked up from 'gentle drizzle' to 'Apocalyptic downpour'. Dean had long since finished working on the sink, and after he paced around the library for fifteen minutes, Sam had banished him to some other part of the bunker, because, 'Dude, you are making it impossible to concentrate'.

He eventually ended up in his room, laying down on his bed and looking up at the ceiling because that's all that he felt he could do.

After about an hour, he heard Sam's voice coming from the library. He assumed he was on the phone with Garth or someone, but then the words became clearer.

"What happened to you? Jeeze, you're gonna catch pneumonia!"

Dean jolted right out of the bed. _Cas_.

He all but ran into the other room. Cas stood at the bottom of the stairs, totally drenched and shaking like he was going to fall apart. His lips and nails were a mottled blueish color.

Sam took control of the situation. "Dean. Go get towels, and bring them to his room."

He effortlessly scooped Cas up and took him down the hall to where the rooms were. Dean vacantly did as he was told and got as many towels as he could carry in his arms.

Sam had set Cas in the chair at his desk and was trying to talk him out of his clothes.

"Come on, man. We've got to get you dry. You can't get hypothermic and die on us now, right?"

Very slowly, Cas managed to nod, and Sam started helping him out of his shirts. "Dean, get his hair dried, would you?"

He started to pick up a towel, when Cas spoke his first words since returning. "I don't want _him_ to touch me."

The words and the atmosphere in the room were as frigid as Cas was. Dean felt his heart plummet; he vaguely remembered throwing the towel at Cas' head, then storming out the door, and slamming it behind him.

xxXX

Half an hour later, and Dean was still drying up the _lake_ that Cas had brought in with him, when he heard Sam come in.

"Not now, man."

"Okay. I'll leave you alone. Just wanted you to know, Cas is fine."

Dean didn't respond. He just kept drying. "And he wants to talk to you."

He snorted. "Well, I'm not talking to him!"

Sam sighed. "Whatever. I'm gonna go to bed now."

"Yeah. 'Night, Sammy."

xXXx

Five days.

The air in the bunker was so tense at times, it felt like you could cut it with a knife. And not like a dagger knife, but like a shitty diner butter knife. Cas and Dean absolutely refused to even look at each other for more than a second. Sam had kind of been lying when he told Dean that Cas had wanted to speak with him. He thought it might get them talking, but no dice.

They would only communicate to Sam. Which after the first couple of days made him want to either lock them in one of the bunker's closets until they made up or starved, or chase them around wielding a sawed-off.

Meals were extremely unpleasant. There was nothing like sitting around a table that was used to comfortable laughter and joking, and suddenly it felt like they were eating dinner after a wake. Sam had tried to start a few conversations, but after Dean had glared at him and Cas refused to look up from his plate, he gave up.

On the fifth day, Sam reached his breaking point. Dean sent him a text asking _him_ to ask Cas about some book he'd been looking into.

He stormed into the library and Dean was sulking and he could hear Cas doing something in the front room. "CAS! Get in here!"

There was some fumbling noise, and after a minute he came into the room. Dean made to stand up and leave, but Sam shoved him back down. "Stay."

"You two are pissing me off. I'm gonna go to town and get some stuff. When I get back, you better be speaking to each other. Civilly. With indoor voices. I don't care how, just get it done so I'm not in the middle of your drama anymore."

He huffed his way out of the room and shortly they heard the Impala pull out onto the road.

Cas had sat down in a chair, a good distance from Dean. There was a long and very uncomfortable silence. But, as Sam had said, Cas always came back to Dean.

"I apologize for the way I spoke to you. And the things I said." Cas practically whispered the words, but they carried through the room.

"Just because Sam threw a bitch fit, or because you're actually sorry?"

"You have every reason to doubt my sincerity. But yes, I am sorry."

Dean still wouldn't look at him. "You're sorry an awful lot, aren't you?"

Cas huffed. "We're supposed to be making amends, not fighting more." He stood up and started pacing. "You can be so difficult to deal with sometimes."

Dean finally fixed his gaze on him. It was the first time he'd really looked at Cas since he saw him shivering in his room. His eyes had bags under them and they were bloodshot from lack of sleep. He'd picked his cuticles until they were scabbed over and then had been picked at some more. Dean shoved any amount of sympathy deep, deep down.

"Yeah, well. You said as much. How long have you thought of me as your prison guard, Cas?"

He quit his pacing, chewing on his lip now, almost making it bleed. "No. I don't think that. I _want_ to be here. I do. I promised not to leave. I wanted to go for a walk, that's all. There's a place…And you just _pushed_ and I wanted my privacy and I snapped at you for it, and I'm _sorry_."

Dean sighed. Time to man up and give in. No matter what Cas and he were, nothing would ever change the fact that Cas was his best friend. And yeah, being at odds with each other was stressing them all out. And Sam didn't need the extra stress, either.

"I knew you weren't leaving. But you wouldn't tell me where you were going so I over reacted. I mean, you were just carrying that little bag, I _knew_ you weren't going far. And then you threw in that 'abandonment issues' thing. And you're right about that."

Cas carried on from there. "And then you brought up my past betrayals and threw them in my face so _I_ over reacted. By doing the exact thing you were accusing me of."

He paused. "You were crying."

Dean rolled his eyes. Of _course_ he would have picked up on that, of all fucking things. "So sue me."

There was another silence, but it wasn't as stiff as the ones before. "Where did you go, Cas?"

He hummed. "Like I said. There is a place, behind the bunker. It's where I've been going when you seem to think I disappear into one of the rooms. There is a small trail, I found it one day. It is a very peaceful place."

Cas sat down, now across from Dean. "There are trees. I was alright for a while, but then the rain came down harder and I got soaked."

Dean frowned. "You took an umbrella with you."

Cas leaned his elbows on the table and gripped his hair. He was agitated and angry again. Not good. "I couldn't figure out how to open it. By the time I did, it was useless."

He sighed and stretched his arm out, pulling the sleeve of his shirt up over his left forearm. There was a long, red scratch on the inside of his arm.

"Cas…"

Dean said his name in the gentlest way he knew how, but that seemed like the wrong thing to do.

"Do not coddle over my accidents. I am not a child, Dean."

"Now you're being hard to deal with. And I am not treating you like a child."

Cas yanked his sleeve down and sulked. "You've said so in the past. When I was powerless. How should now be any different?"

Dean distantly recalled some insults. But he insulted everybody.

"I don't think of you as a child. I think of you as my friend, who just needs to learn a few things. Hell, we're always learning stuff. Sam had to teach me and Bobby how to use a computer. And he was a condescending bitch the whole way through. At least with me. Bobby would'a shot at him."

That earned a small smile.

"Why'd you come back?"

The smile dimmed. "Because I couldn't feel my feet anymore and I would have rather faced your anger at me than drowning in a downpour."

Dean sighed. The question he didn't want to ask. "Why did you not want me to touch you?" It came out as a whisper. And they both knew that what he really meant was 'why did you not trust me?'.

Cas looked at his hands, picking at the scabs. "I promised to never leave your side, for as long as you would have me. You cast me out. I thought I had broken your trust. And I was afraid you might hurt me, for leaving again."

Before Dean even registered what he was doing, he had gotten out of his chair and moved to pull Cas up by his elbows. Then he was hugging him close, holding him like he had in Purgatory.

"Hey. I will never hurt you on purpose. And if I ever do by accident, I promise to make it up in any way possible." He ducked his head down, closer to Cas' ear. "You are special to me, remember?"

Hesitantly, Dean felt Cas reach around him, trying to return the embrace, but seemed like he wasn't sure what to do with his hands. Dean pulled away, letting him off the hook.

Cas had a tear rolling down his face and Dean almost reached up to wipe it away, but held himself back.

"Dean…All these emotions. They're mostly new to me, and I don't understand many of them. I feel…Anger. For no reason, and you and Sam are the only ones around, and I always feel awful when I've been…snappish with one of you."

Cas sat back down. "I think it happens when I feel the most useless. And I feel sad and afraid. I'm not used to fear. It's a relatively new sensation. Then I feel irrationally angry. Is that normal?"

Dean smiled and sat next to him. "Buddy, that's about as human as it gets. Yeah, it's normal. You get scared and you think 'this is stupid, what the hell am I afraid of', then you get pissed off. It's a daily occurrence for some people. That explains why you've been all pissy when me or Sam try to help you with stuff. You get afraid that you're useless and we'll kick you out for being a burden, right?"

Cas looked surprised. "I…Yeah. That's what I've been thinking."

"Well, get over it. Sammy and me…We know a thing or two about burdens, and you aren't one. I know having someone tell you that isn't gonna be enough, and you'll still get bitchy at us, but we can take it. No one is gonna throw you out. And if I get pissed off and ever tell you to leave, you tell me to fuck myself and go hang out in another room until I'm chilled out. Got it?"

Cas managed a smile. "Yeah. Got it."

"Good. Now, not a word of this to Sam. If he knows I know about all his psycho-babble crap he'll never let me live it down. We'll just say we talked it out. No chick flick moments involved."

Then a smile lit up his face. "Oh, no, better idea. Let's pretend to still be mad, and when he comes in he'll throw a shit-fit."

Cas sighed and leaned his head on his hand, elbow resting on the table. "I liked the first idea better."

xxXX

It was a few days later, when the sun came out and there wasn't much to do, that Dean asked Cas a favor.

"Hey. I know it's your private get away, but would you mind showing us that place you were telling me about? Behind the bunker?"

Cas stiffened over Sam's laptop; he was supposed to be practicing on learning how to use it, but Dean hadn't heard any typing or clicking, so he supposed Cas had given up on it and was just sitting there, glaring at the screen. Sam looked up, interested. Dean had told him the very basics of their making up, and he had told him Cas had a secret place.

He sighed and shut the computer lid. "Sure. You would've found it eventually anyway."

True to Dean's guess, Cas' general mood hadn't improved much. He was touchy, and God only knew what might set him off on some days, but Dean and Sam just went with it. This would pass. They had all put up with enough shit from each other to know that he'd settle out eventually. Human emotions were a bitch to deal with, even if you had been human for thirty years already.

The brothers followed Cas out the front door, and up the bank to the side of the bunker. "See? I noticed a trail."

If he squinted and turned his head just so, Dean could make out a path, almost completely grown over. Cas followed it, like it was clear as day, and Dean and Sam just managed to keep up with him, trying not to trip on roots and branches. After about ten minutes of walking there was a steep downhill, and then the trees thinned out. Cas led them out, and they were greeted to a wonderful sight.

It was a wide open space, closed in by the forest and the back wall of the bunker. The stream they could hear ran through it, almost straight down the middle. It came off a hill over rocks, making a small waterfall. A rotted old wooden bridge crossed it. There were a few trees dotted here and there, the largest on a small hill not far from the stream. The rest of the ground was covered in tallish grass, with wild flowers growing everywhere. It looked like a place from a storybook, like the little girl who found a secret garden.

Sam was the first to speak. "Wow…Cas. This place is great! No wonder you come out here all the time." He bounded away from the other two, like a kid in a playground, checking out the stream and the different flowers.

Dean chuckled, happy to see Sam happy. He looked over at Cas, who was just gazing out, looking more chilled out than he had been lately.

"You see any animals out here?"

Cas shrugged. "Birds mostly. Lots of birds. Insects."

He turned to face Dean. "I was bitten by a mosquito." He said it very seriously.

"Yeah. Those things can be a bitch."

Cas started walking towards the stream and Dean followed. "I haven't seen many fish. Just a few small ones. They come up to eat the minnows."

He stopped at the edge. "The bridge is impassable, but I found these rocks. Be careful. They can be slippery."

They hopped over three rocks, and Dean almost fell over, but luckily Cas didn't notice, although he thought he heard Sam laugh at something.

Cas walked up the hill to the bottom of the tree and sat on the ground in its shade, facing away from the bunker. "This is my favorite spot."

Dean sat next to him. He kinda got it. He wasn't big into the nature stuff, but he could appreciate a place like this. Serene, in a way. It was very _Castiel_.

A bumblebee buzzed over and landed on a purple flower nearby. Dean smiled and looked at Cas.

"You like the bees, right?"

He smiled, but it was a sad kinda smile. "Yes. I like the bees."

"Hey. What's up?"

Cas sniffled, and Dean realized he was close to tears. God, not crying again. Too much fucking crying. "What's wrong, Cas?"

"I used to be able to see. I saw _everything_, Dean. The bees, their trails, how they communicated to each other. I could see the flowers for what they really were, I could tell you every detail of this tree's life. Now it's just a _tree_. A stupid tree."

Dean sighed. "Part of being human, Cas. I'm sorry to say it. All the trees are 'just trees'. But it's a poplar tree, if that helps any."

Cas just leaned back against the trunk. It didn't look like he was going to cry now, so Dean leaned back, too.

"Mom loved poplars. There wasn't a freeze that year and so all the blooms came out on the one in our yard, and me and Dad gathered them all up because she loved the smell. That was just before she had Sammy."

"I was under very strict orders not to interfere. I knew the demon was close, but when I asked my superiors I was told to stand down."

Dean looked at Cas, confused as hell. "What are you talking about?"

"Knowing what I know now, even though it would mean never getting to meet and know you…If I could go back, I would have stopped the demon before he fed Sam, and I would have saved your mother."

Shit, now he was going to fucking cry. _Damn it_!

"Yeah. I know you would've. But I'm kinda glad I got to've met you."

They were both leaning back on the tree, and their legs were almost touching. It wasn't hard for Dean to move the few inches over and pick Cas' hand from where he had it near his knee and tangling their fingers together. Cas made no effort to pull away.

Dean rested his head back against the tree and smiled. "It is so nice out here."

Cas hummed in agreement. "Have you ever come out here at night?"

"Once. But the stars were just stars."

Dean looked over at him, realizing how close their faces were. "I'm sorry."

Cas was looking down at his lap, but squeezed his hand. "It's okay. I never really cared for stars anyway."

Dean was a good enough liar to usually know a lie when he heard one. But he let it go.

Sam came around the tree and stood in front of them, looking too much like an oversized toddler. "Hey, guys, look what I…"

He noticed their hands together, and the intensity of the moment. "Uh…I'm interrupting something. Never mind."

Grateful for the interruption, because things were getting a little too heavy, Dean called him back before he went very far. But he wasn't about to let go of Cas' hand. And so far, Cas wasn't complaining.

"Get back here. You weren't interrupting! What didja find?"

Sam knelt down in front of them. "Check it out."

He held his hands out and there was a Monarch butterfly walking around. "I think he likes me. Hasn't flown off yet."

"Yeah, well don't go naming it and we aren't starting an insects-in-a-jar collection. Have you forgotten the Indian burial ground? 'Cause I sure as hell haven't."

Cas was leaning forward to look at it closer. "They are beautiful creatures. The Monarchs were my favorites. Any time I visited The Garden in Heaven, the place was always full of them."

They could have jars. They could put thousands of jars in every room in the bunker. Indian insect murder-rage against the white man be damned.

But just then, it flew off, blending in with a patch of orange and yellow flowers not very far away.

XXxx

Dean was plotting something. Sam could tell when he was plotting, and the signs were flashing around everywhere. What Dean may be plotting was beyond him, but he kept searching around the bunker for stuff. When asked what he was looking for, it was met with a 'mind your own business, Sam'. The plotting had started the afternoon that they had visited the garden behind the bunker, so Sam figured it had something to do with that.

Three days later, Dean called a meeting just before noon. And by 'meeting', he had yelled, "Sam! Cas! Get your asses in here!" from the library.

"Okay, guys. Garth has a poltergeist in Portland."

"Cool. When are we going?"

"You and Cas are leaving tomorrow morning."

Yeah. Dean was plotting. "_Me_ and Cas?"

"Did I stutter?"

Sam just glared at him. "Look. I've hunted plenty with you, Sam, and I've hunted plenty with Cas. But you two haven't worked together a lot. You know, without me along. So if all three of us are gonna be hunting together in the future, which we are, then we need to be a team. Know each other's strengths and weaknesses. So think of this as a…bonding experience."

Sam continued glaring. "You're up to something."

Dean smiled at him. "Nope. Bonding. Portland. You and Cas. Don't argue. But before you guys go, me and Cas need to run an errand. So start packing."

XxxX

"Dean. Why are you sending Sam and I on this hunt?"

He huffed and watched the road. "It's a poltergeist. Sam could go on his own and be fine. But, you need the experience, and really, it doesn't take three people. Too many cooks in the kitchen fucks up the soup."

Cas didn't say anything for a few minutes. "Okay. Well what is this errand we are running?"

"It's something I should have done a long time ago. You were dead set on not being human for much longer, so I didn't push it. But I'm not sending you out without being one hundred percent protected."

"What are you talking about?"

Dean pulled over in front of a tattoo parlor. "Anti-possession time."

He looked over and Cas had paled. "Don't worry, buddy. You've hurt worse, believe me."

"Yeah. I'm sure I have." Cas let out a sigh. "Where should I get it?"

Dean shrugged. "I've seen people get them all over. The Trans' had theirs on their arms, Charlie had hers put between her shoulders. I met a dude in Montana who had his on the sole of his foot. And you know where mine and Sam's are. It's up to you."

Cas fidgeted all the way into the front room of the parlor, picking at his nails and biting his bottom lip. A chick with about eighteen piercings came to the desk. "Hey. You got an appointment?"

"Yeah. It's under 'Luigi', but this is the guy getting it." Dean slapped Cas on the back.

"Okay. Follow me." She led them to a chair. "You gotta idea about what you want?"

Dean pulled out a sketching of his own tattoo from his jacket pocket.

"Alrighty. Where're you getting it, Hun?"

Cas glanced at Dean nervously first, then pulled his jacket off and rolled the left sleeve of his shirt up and drew a circle with his finger about an inch below his elbow on the inside of his forearm.

"Okay. Let's get started. I'm Lettie, by the way."

"I'm…Cas."

"Cool. I'll be right back."

Dean sat at his right side in a fold out chair. "Not gonna lie. It'll hurt some. But you can grab my hand if you want."

Cas glared at him. "I'm not a child."

He shrugged. "Maybe if you just wanna hold my hand."

Cas' mouth dropped open a little, but Lettie stuck her head back in. "Forgot to ask. What colors do you want?"

His eyes darted back to Dean's. "Up to you, man."

"Uhm. Blue?"

"Cool."

"I dared Sam to get his in hot pink, but he was too chicken shit to do it."

That actually got a small laugh from Cas. Lettie showed up with a few bottles of ink. "Which shade, Hun?"

Cas inspected each one, eventually pointing at one that was a dark blue, almost purple looking. Indigo, Dean supposed it was called.

Lettie left again. "It'll work, right?"

"Yeah, as long as it's that design, the color won't matter."

Not too much longer and Lettie was firing up the machine. And before the needle even touched his skin, Cas reached over and touched Dean's hand. Not squeezing. Just holding.

xxXX

Twenty four hours later found Sam and Cas well on their way westward. Dean had sent them off earlier in the morning with a 'good luck' and a 'Sammy if you mess up my Baby I will never let you eat another vegetable in your life'.

Sam played much different music on the radio than Dean did, and at a much lower volume. Conversation wasn't much. Cas didn't really feel like talking, and it seemed neither did Sam. The quiet was nice, but became uncomfortable after some time. Perhaps this bonding experience Dean had planned was a good idea. But what was he supposed to say? Social interactions, even with Dean and Sam were still a little uncomfortable.

After a while, Sam pulled over onto an exit ramp. "Are you hungry, Cas?"

He looked at the time. It was after one. "Yes. I am."

"What do you say about Biggerson's? I know you probably got tired of their food…"

"No, actually. I never ate, just ordered coffee. I'd like to try the food."

Sam smiled. "Great. They have these awesome salad bars."

They stopped to refuel the car first, but then they pulled in front of the Biggerson's. Cas wasn't sure if it was one of the ones he hid in, but he doubted no one would recognize him if it was. He had changed since then, hadn't he?

Soon, Sam was situated with a salad that looked just a little too big for one person to eat on their own and Cas had a large cheeseburger and some french fries.

Sam hummed around a mouthful of lettuce and tomatoes. "Dean's too paranoid to come back and eat here, after the Leviathan thing, but man, I missed these salad bars."

Cas remained quiet. He wasn't sure what to say. This was making him nervous, and when he got nervous he got scared and then he got angry. He didn't _want_ to be angry.

"Cas? You're shaking."

He glanced at his hands. So he was.

"Yeah. I am."

"Can I ask why?"

Cas still wasn't sure what to say. "I'm scared, Sam."

It was the truth. And he felt better for saying it. "What are you scared of?"

"Being this…human."

Sam nodded. "I kinda get it."

Cas felt that anger building up again. "How can you possibly 'get it'?"

He just smiled. "I was hooked up with an angel once. Jimmy described it as being chained to a comet, but that wasn't even close. Lucifer let me in, in a way. Kept me up front for a while, which ended up being his mistake. I got to see things the way you did. I got to feel how it was to fly. I only felt it for a few days. But to be as powerful as you were, for millennia, and then…not. I can't imagine it. But I think I can kind of understand."

Cas looked down at his lap. "Now I feel ashamed."

"Hey, it's alright, Cas. My feelings don't get hurt that easy. Now, what else is bothering you?"

He felt nervous mentioning it. "This case. The last ghost possessed me and I shot Dean. I fear I will cause you some harm. And Dean may not forgive me for that again."

Sam laughed around his mouthful of salad. "Then we're both afraid of the same thing. Dean told me if I brought you back in anything less than 'mint condition', he was going to strangle me."

Cas smiled at that. "Then we will work very hard to protect each other."

XxxX

In the end, it was an easy case.

Some old newspaper articles, an old lady in a nursing home, and then Sam was leading the spirit of the late Mr. Lewis Thermon all through his house, distracting him while Cas burned his journal that he had hidden under a floorboard in his bedroom closet.

The only injury sustained at all was a splinter Cas got pulling up the board. It came out easily enough and he swore not to let Dean know about it. It really had been a good experience for them both, and by the end of the case, Cas found himself talking with Sam with the same ease usually reserved for Dean. He came to realize that, even though it was different with Dean, he felt that Sam was special to him as well.

The connection with a brother, one he had not felt since he had ripped Heaven apart. It was a good feeling.

They had just left Portland and Sam turned on the radio. "Hey, Cas. You pick the music."

"I thought the driver was…"

"No, that's because Dean is an asshole and likes to bug me. Pick a station."

Cas fiddled with the dial until he came upon a melody he liked. Sam explained that it was a station that played older music, but of a different genre of rock that Dean was preferenced to. He said he would usually listen to a station like this if he was feeling particularly sentimental.

They listened to it until it faded out over the Rockies.

Sam turned the radio off. "I remember these."

"Remember what, Cas?"

"These mountains. It was a slow process, but Uriel and I enjoyed watching them come up. Higher and higher."

There was quiet while Cas enjoyed the scenery.

XXxx

When they arrived back at the bunker, it was just before lunch. They pulled their bags from the back of the car and walked in to find that Dean had made pizza when Sam had called ahead to let him know they were about an hour out.

Even though they had already told him the basics on the phone, Dean wanted specifics on the case. How everything went, were there any cool action sequences, did the car run okay, Sam, you didn't get sick, did you, etcetera.

After a while, Sam went to lie down, saying he was tired from the driving.

Dean was putting their plates in the sink. "Hey, Cas, one of these days we gotta teach you how to drive, so we can all switch out on hunts."

"It looks relatively easy, I imagine it won't be a problem."

Dean chuckled. "Yeah. That's what Sammy said. He almost flipped the old junker of Bobby's we were borrowing, and I thought I was gonna get flung out. Takes practice. And a decent car. I think Bobby's might've had a bad break line."

"Did he know which car you were taking?"

"Hell no, he was off with Rufus. By borrowed I kinda meant stole." He turned and grinned at Cas, wiping his hands on a towel.

"Are you going for a nap too, or do you think you could come on a walk with me?"

Cas tilted his head. He had slept in the car. "Where are we going?"

Dean's face lit up. "I gotta surprise for you."

He led the way out of the bunker and up through the trail to the garden. Cas started to feel confused. He had found the place, what could Dean possibly have to show him that he hadn't already seen?

Dean stopped just before the trees cleared out. "Okay, cover your eyes."

He looked very excited. Dean could be so childlike sometimes. When Cas didn't immediately do as he asked, he looked put out.

"Come on, humor me, man. I won't let you trip on any roots, or anything, I promise."

Cas sighed then brought both hands up over his eyes, effectively blinding himself. He could feel Dean's over-exuberance radiating off of him. He steered him by the shoulders, leading him out into the garden.

"Alright…And, open!"

Cas uncovered his eyes and blinked in the bright light. Dean had brought him to the stream. Where the old, rotten bridge had once been, there was now a new one. It was painted a light green that almost blended into the grass, and even had arches on the sides underneath, and there was a step leading up onto it.

"Ta-da!"

Cas felt slightly overwhelmed. "You built this while we were gone? By yourself?"

"I'll have you know I worked in construction for almost a year, thank you very much."

Cas knew Dean was mocking him, but he didn't mind. "Is it okay to…"

"Yeah, of course. The paint's all dry, and I jumped on it a few times to make sure it would hold up."

He had to laugh at that, and walked over to the bridge, taking the step up. He walked about half way across, and then sat down. His feet didn't quite touch the water. Dean sat next to him. "This is why I didn't put up a banister."

Cas leaned over a little. "I can see the fish from here."

"Yeah. I think I spoiled them. They were pissed off I was making so much noise so I started throwing little chunks of bologna at them."

Cas was definitely overwhelmed now. How was this even possible? After everything he had done to hurt Dean, after what he had done to Sam, how could Dean even begin to forgive him enough to make something like this?

But this was a happy moment, and Cas didn't want to spoil it. "It's perfect, Dean. Thank you."

Dean got to his feet. "But wait, there's more! Come on, I got something else to show you, too."

_Something else_? Cas followed Dean towards the large tree on the small hill. "Do I have to cover my eyes again?"

"Nah. This isn't much." Dean led him to the other side of the tree that was out of view from the stream. There was a bench there, a darker green than the bridge was. It was just a simple thing, slightly curved with wide arm rests, large enough for two people. "You said this was your favorite place to sit, and I thought it'd be cool if you had a place to sit without having to be on the ground. Unless…You like the ground, I mean you don't _have_ to sit on it if you don't…"

He was cut off because Cas had launched himself the couple of feet that separated him and Dean and was embracing him tightly. Dean let out a faint 'oomph'. Unlike Cas, who normally didn't quite know what to do with holding someone, Dean almost immediately wrapped his arms around Cas' waist.

"It's just a bench," he murmured a moment later.

"I don't deserve it," Cas whispered in return. Dean was rubbing circles with his fingers that he could feel through his shirts just above the small of his back.

"Sure you do. You've been through a lot Cas, we all have. It's okay to have something good every once in a while."

"I've done too much bad to have this much good."

Dean pulled back a little bit so he could look Cas in the face but didn't move his arms. Cas moved his so he wasn't squeezing Dean as much as he had been, and now that he realized how hard he'd been holding him, he felt a little embarrassed.

"Can't you let yourself be a little happy, Cas? Just for me. You've done plenty of good stuff too. Just say 'thanks' and be happy for a few more minutes."

Cas felt his face grow warm, something he disliked, another human thing he couldn't control. But he nodded. "Okay. Thank you, Dean. In this moment, I am very happy."

He even managed a smile, just to prove it, and Dean smiled back, before faltering slightly and dropping eye contact.

"Uh, Cas…"

He wondered what was wrong, then he realized how close he and Dean still were. Arms wrapped around each other longer than what Cas even knew was the social norm.

"Personal space?"

Dean laughed breathlessly and looked back at Cas. "No. Not really."

One of Dean's hands that had been on his back moved up so he was cupping the side of his face, running his thumb gently over Cas' cheekbone, and he knew Dean could feel the heat radiating off him by now. Dean shuffled a little bit closer, and he was closer than they had ever been before, like this. Cas was starting to feel a little dizzy, but he couldn't find it in himself to care, because he could count every one of Dean's freckles, if he wanted to.

"Breathe, Cas."

Oh. Right, that's why he was dizzy, he had forgotten to breathe.

Then Dean was even closer, and Cas realized he was being kissed a second after Dean touched his lips. The small part of his brain that was still functioning reminded him that he was supposed to be reciprocating, so he did. Dean made this sweet little humming noise, and Cas was relieved. He wasn't the only one enjoying this.

He was more than enjoying it. Dean felt bright, like the sun coming out from behind a cloud, and Cas wasn't afraid of the dark anymore. Because Dean was with him. Then Dean was pulling back, and Cas opened his eyes again, not even remembering closing them.

They smiled at each other, Cas feeling embarrassed again, although he couldn't say why. Dean took a step back, and Cas let his hands drop from his shoulders. "Come on, let's go back in. I finally got around to picking up a TV while you guys were gone, and a whole bunch of movies. Time to start on your pop culture education."

Dean grabbed his hand and they walked that way back into the bunker, where he showed Cas the new TV room, not far from the library. There were a couple of arm chairs and a slightly dusty love seat that Dean must have uncovered. It looked very homey. Dean slipped a disk in to the built in player, and pulled Cas onto the love seat with him and holding him close.

While the movie was interesting, and Dean's almost constant commentary about the goings on of the USS Enterprise and its crew, and how this movie sucked, but it's the first one so we gotta watch it before 'Wrath of Khan' amused him, Cas had to say the most fascinating experience was his head leaning against Dean's chest the whole time, hearing his heart beat.

xxXX

Dean knew the shit would hit the fan eventually. It was just like had told Cas that day, something good can come along, and you should enjoy it. But with their life and profession, moments like that don't often last very long.

Over the next week there was more kissing and sitting together on the ratty old love seat. Cas had cried when Spock died, and Dean didn't want to ruin the plot line, so they had just laid there together, all cramped up, kissing gently until Cas had mostly forgotten what he was so sad about. Then he had socked Dean in the arm for not telling him that Spock was going to be resurrected.

If Sammy had noticed a change, he didn't mention it. He didn't sit in on the Star Trek marathons because Dean would say his favorite lines along with the movie and he left about five minutes after that.

Dean wasn't sure if he should tell Sam about the change in Cas and his relationship. Although, really, there wasn't much to tell, besides that Cas was noticeably happier for longer periods than he had been before, although he still disappeared out to his garden for hours on end. And Dean, well, he was happy, sure. Cas was the second most important person in the world to him, and getting to be with him this way was wonderful.

But. He had to be practical and realistic. This was not the apple pie domestic bliss, they were all still hunters. And sooner or later, the other shoe would drop.

It happened about a week later. They all went into town on separate missions. Dean needed a part for the Impala, Sam needed some kind of software for his computer, and Cas had heard about a used bookstore that he hadn't known they had.

"Yeah, because we don't have enough books here," Dean had laughed.

"These are all manuscripts and spells and lore. I want to try reading fiction."

Sam had given him a few suggestions on some titles he may enjoy, and they had all gone off in their separate directions, agreeing to meet at the small restaurant that they had found that was really good. It was still a diner, but it was a _nice_ diner.

Dean was on his way there when two figures caught the corner of his eye down an alley next to the dumpster outside the diner. They were standing close, and it was obvious they were having some kind of fight. After years, Dean knew how to tell. One was wearing a snooty looking maroon business outfit and the other was wearing the same dark grey Triumph shirt Cas had snatched from his dresser this morning when he came to tell Dean breakfast was ready.

_Shit_!

XxXx

Cas found the bookstore fascinating. It didn't smell so old as the books in the bunker, but you could tell the books here had been loved and cherished by someone before. There were new books mixed in with the used ones and were considerably more expensive, but he would rather have ones that had some history to them.

He considered the list Sam had given him, and read the summaries on the backs and read the first few pages. He ended up with a copy of 'Paradise Lost', which he had kind of already read, but it had been hundreds of years ago, the novelization of 'The Wrath of Khan', that had _not_ been on Sam's list but he spotted it and knew he must have it, the 'Lord of the Rings' trilogy and 'The Hobbit', 'A Tale Of Two Cities', 'Moby Dick', and a copy of 'Grimm's Fairy Tales', that had lovely illustrations in it.

It occurred to Cas as he was handing the money over to the nice elderly lady who ran the shop, that besides his clothes, the wallet Dean had given him and a Velcro-on watch that Sam had bought him in Portland, these were the first material possessions he truly had for himself. He could stack them on the small shelf on his desk.

Cas thanked the lady and left the shop, a light tinkling following him. He walked in the direction that he thought the diner was in, but soon found himself a little lost. It was hard to get too lost in a town like this, though, and a man who dressed very reminiscently of Bobby Singer pointed him down the side walk, then to cut through the alley there.

Halfway down the alley, Cas got a very odd feeling, and he could relate it to a sense of knowing you were being watched. A second later, and a hand grabbed him by the shoulder and shoved him against the brick wall, making him gasp and drop the plastic bag of books.

He was met with a woman; shorter than him, but not by much, with blondish hair and angry grey eyes. She seemed familiar, but Cas had no idea who she was. Her grip was inhumanly strong.

"Hello Castiel. It's been a while." Her voice was pleasant, but extremely cold, and Cas felt himself shiver.

"Who are you?"

"Of course. You wouldn't remember me. I worked in the Archives, after all."

Cas frowned. "You're an angel?"

What was a cold expression now turned furious. "No! No I am not! And I think we both know whose fault that is."

Cas swallowed, unwanted fear flooding through him. "Who are you," he asked again.

"Technically, I'm Vicky Lewiston and I'm an executive of a very productive retail chain. But really, my name is Ruth."

"Ruth, the Archivist?" He could not remember an angel he'd met by that name. Of course, all their voices sang together in the heads of the angels, and they all knew all their names, but not every angel had met every single one of their brethren.

"I was Bonded to Kerubiel, perhaps that is a name you remember?"

Cas felt all the blood drain from his face, his whole body. Kerubiel. Raphael's second in command, and the first he slaughtered when he returned to Heaven as the new God. He killed all the others quickly, but he had taken his time with Kerubiel, making an example.

"Ruth, I am very sorry."

She shoved him impossibly harder into the wall. "That isn't good enough!"

She moved both hands so she was gripping the front of his shirt and lifted him off his feet an inch or two. "I will not rest until I have taken _everything_ from you. Any life you've built, friends, family, I will _burn_ it down and make you watch. And then I will burn _you_."

"Hey!"

Cas barely hid back a groan. As grateful as he was that Dean had found him, he did not want this _monster_ to know he was close to Cas.

He heard her chuckle. "The Righteous Man. Of course Castiel would have found his way to your side."

"Who are you, lady?"

"I am Ruth. I just came by town to pay my brother a little visit."

Her eyes returned to Cas' face. "I know where you are now. The true siblings I have found will be watching you. Did you know our telepathic abilities are still fully intact? We have just enough Grace left. We know all your secrets."

Ruth leaned forward and whispered in his ear. "And I'll make sure _he's_ last."

She released her hold on Cas, who slipped down against the brick wall, and Dean was immediately by his side. Ruth walked away, not bothering to look back.

"Cas. You okay? Who was that?"

He shook as Dean helped him stand a bit steadier, and picked his bag off the concrete. He started leading the way towards the diner, and sat him in a chair while they waited on Sam. Dean set next to Cas and leaned in.

"Come on. Man, you gotta talk to me."

"Ruth. She is one of the angels who survived the fall. Part of her Grace is still intact. Super-strength, the ability to move things with her mind and read thoughts. I'm not sure what else she can do."

He looked Dean in the eyes. "She knows everything. The location of the bunker…"

"Hey, don't worry about that. That bunker would withstand a nuke strike."

Dean clearly could feel Cas' distress. "So she has it out for you, huh?"

"I…Angels could Bond with one another. It was like a marriage rite, to pledge two beings together for the rest of their existence. It was taken very seriously, and not many Bondings occurred."

"Okay. So?"

"So…Ruth was Bonded to an angel name Kerubiel. I…I _eviscerated_ him, Dean. And she seeks revenge for that and also for my destroying Heaven. She would kill us all."

Dean looked a little shaken, but just then, Sam came in and instantly knew something was wrong. Cas was relieved when Dean told Sam what had happened, because he knew he could not retell it again.


	4. Bargaining

Chapter Three: Bargaining

They ordered their food to go, then hightailed it to the bunker. Dean did a perimeter check while Cas and Sam darted inside. Dean then checked the car, making sure nothing had been messed with, no bags or funky coins.

When he came in, they bolted the door shut, just like they always did and Dean had everyone turn out their pockets. Sam reached into his jacket pocket and groaned.

"I bumped into a guy coming out of the computer store. Just hit his shoulder."

He tossed a hex bag onto the table, and Dean pulled out a lighter. "What'd he look like, Sammy?"

"Tallish, with strawberry blonde hair, wearing jogging pants and a Kansas State shirt. Skinny looking, maybe late twenties."

After the hex bag was completely burned, they all sat around the table. Dean laid down some rules. If anyone wanted to go out, someone had to go with them, and they had to stay together. One person had to be in the bunker and keep it bolted at all times. There was a secret knock to get back into the bunker. They weren't going to take any chances.

Cas tried to pay attention to what Dean was saying, but he kept picturing Ruth's face in his mind, and how angry she was. An anger that was fully justified. He had killed her soul mate, striking him down even as he was begging on his knees that he would swear his loyalty, just to please let him live.

"Cas? You with me?"

He jerked his eyes up from the table, not realizing that he had been drifting in thought for so long.

"I'm sorry, Dean. I'm with you."

"Okay. We stick to this and watch each other's backs until we can get some answers. We know she has other fallen angels on her side. Sam, you said these guys can be killed? They're mortal now."

"Yeah. But it'll be hard, depending on what kinds of powers they still have, and what kind of angel they used to be."

Dean frowned. "What do you mean?"

Cas finally spoke up, contributing to the conversation. "Every angel in Heaven had some sort of job. Ruth worked in the Archives, Virgil was a weapons master, Joshua a gardener. Every angel had some basic fighting skills, in case the whole Host was needed for battle. But only the soldiers, the ones who would be on the front lines, protecting the Earth and Heaven, were heavily trained. If Ruth has any of these angels on her side, it will be extremely difficult to defeat them, even though they are weakened by not having their Graces."

"Well, let's hope anyone who's with her isn't one of those guys." Dean tried to smile encouragingly, but it did little to give Cas much hope. It would take someone much more powerful than three humans to stop Ruth and any with her.

Cas had to think of something.

XxxX

The last Dean had seen of Cas, he had disappeared into his room and as far as he knew, hadn't come out since. It had been a rough day, for all of them, Cas especially. If he needed space, Dean would let him have space.

It was just getting dark, and Dean had retreated to his room. Sam was busy doing research on Nephilim, which they guessed was the closest thing to what these kinda-angels are. He'd been helping him, but Sam told him he was being distracting and to go away.

He'd thought about watching a movie, but it wouldn't be the same as watching one without Cas, and they hadn't gotten to Nemesis yet. So Dean went to his room and put a Zeppelin album on with the volume down enough to not bother Cas next door. He lay down on his bed and just listened, knowing the songs well enough to let his mind wander. It was only one song away from having to flip sides when there was a small tap on his door.

"Yeah?"

Cas popped his head in and closed the door back behind him. "Hey, Cas. What's up?"

He looked nervous and was doing that thing where he picked at his nails again. "I'm not intruding, am I?" His eyes darted towards the record player.

"Oh, no. Just turn it off."

Cas had to stare at it for a minute before he found the right switch. He walked across the room and stood next to the bed, at the side that Dean wasn't laying on. "May I?"

It took Dean a minute to figure out what he was asking, if he could lay down with him on the bed. "Oh. Uhm, sure."

Cas easily fit into his side, one arm going under Dean's shoulders and the other on his chest. Dean slipped an arm under his waist and around to his side and held Cas' free hand with his own. It wasn't unlike when they curled up watching a movie, but now they had more room, and this felt weirdly much more intimate.

"What's going on, Cas?"

He shuffled a little bit closer, which Dean hadn't thought was possible.

"I'm not sure what to do, Dean."

"About what?"

He felt Cas huff against his neck. "Ruth. And her agenda against me. It will be extremely difficult to stop her."

"We've dealt with worse. We'll figure something out. It may take a while, but we're safe for now."

"You would be safer if they no longer knew where I was."

Dean felt something icy cold run through him and he felt nauseous at the same time. He pulled his head back so he could see Cas' face.

"You wanna leave."

He frowned. "No. I don't. But it's the only option."

"Well it's a fucking stupid option."

Cas flinched at the anger in his voice. "Dean…"

"No. We face this stuff by sticking together. If we've all learned anything in the past years, we know that's the best thing. If you run off and try to hide, they'll find you. And if they don't, they still know where Sam and I are, they'll get us and use it against you."

Cas looked away; he clearly hadn't thought of that possibility.

Dean tried to force himself to calm down. "I know you're thinking things are pretty desperate right now, and they are. But don't go doing something stupid."

He settled his head down on Dean's shoulder. "I just want you and Sam to be safe. Should something happen to you on account of my mistakes, I don't know…"

Cas' voice broke and Dean kissed the top of his head. "It'll take a lot more than some snooty mangels to take me and Sammy out."

"Mangels?"

"Yeah. Part human, part angel. Mangels. It's what I've been calling them in my head."

He felt Cas smile a little bit. "It'll work out, babe. You'll see."

Dean started turning red. He hadn't called Cas 'babe' before and it had just slipped out. If Cas thought anything about it, he didn't say. Just snuggled into Dean some more.

"I find your optimism encouraging. And a little bit out of character."

Dean laughed. "Well, not long ago you would've been right. But I got so many things that make it better now."

He leaned down and kissed Cas on the top of his head again, burying his nose there for a minute, just breathing in his scent.

Just then, Sam knocked on the door as he was opening it. If he was surprised to see him and Cas all curled together on the bed, it wasn't showing. He actually looked a little smug, the bitch.

"Hey, if you guys aren't, um…_busy_, Charlie's asking for us on Skype. She says there's something really important going on." He popped out of the room, leaving the door open.

XxxX

Cas followed Dean into the library where Sam had his computer set up. Dean moved around to stand at Sam's shoulder and waved.

"Good evening, my Queen."

"The same to you, my devoted Handmaiden."

Cas shuffled over to where he could see the screen. There was a young lady with long red hair and a friendly smile.

"Cas, you haven't met Charlie, come here." Dean pulled Cas over so he was standing behind Sam's other shoulder. Charlie waved.

"Hey! It's good to finally meet you in person. Kind of."

He leaned over so he was closer to Dean. "How is she seeing us?"

Sam choked back a laugh. "See this little thing?" He pointed at a spot on the top of his computer. "It's a camera. We can link up over the Internet and talk to each other. Like cell phones, but you can see each other's faces."

"Oh."

"Charlie, what do you got for us? Sam said it was big."

There was some ruckus somewhere near her, and she looked around and rolled her eyes. "Yeah, like huge. One big-ass boss battle."

Cas was having trouble understanding what she was saying, but he didn't want to interrupt.

"I'll start at the beginning. Okay, so I was in Phoenix for a Con, and I was at this motel. Well, I was packing up to leave, and I saw Kevin! You guys showed me a picture of him to keep an eye out, so I recognized him. And I was like, 'hey, what's up, I hang with the Winchesters', and it turns out him and his friend Garth had been tracking some serious demon activity. Off the charts."

"We didn't hear anything about it," Dean sounded put out.

"Well, see, Garth was about to call you guys, but I told them I didn't mind helping out. Besides, they needed some mad hacking skills to pull this thing of theirs off."

"What thing?"

"Kevin told me about this recipe for these kick-ass demon killing bombs, and they were gonna need a lot of them."

"Well where'd you get the stuff? Cas had to fly all over the world to get some of that shit."

He was starting to sound impatient now.

"E-bay, duh. It was expensive as crap but that's where my skills came in. So we made a whole bunch of these jars of the stuff, and then we raided the keep. And by keep, I kinda mean abandoned warehouse. Why is it always abandoned warehouses? I mean, they're crap. Hide in the Hilton next time…"

"Charlie."

"Okay, keep your panties on. There were demons, and we were smokin'em left and right and we were kicking ass and taking names. And we thought we'd done it, and were high-fiving it…And then the Boss came in. She said her name was Abaddon, and she was looking for the Winchester boys and this had been a set-up. I guess she thought you guys would still be watching over Kevin, I dunno."

Charlie was very expressive with her hand and arm movements.

"Anyway, Garth threw a demon bomb at her. No dice, guys, and I was about to freak out 'cause this bitch was scary as hell. She was hot as hell, too…But, uh, Kevin was like, 'keep throwing them', and we were chucking jars as fast as we could, and we were down to the last one, and she _finally_ died."

Dean and Sam looked at each other. "Dead? Are you sure?"

"She went out like all the others did. Apparently, she was a Knight of Hell, and the only thing that will kill one are those bombs, but you have to go atomic on them with it. That's what Kevin said. And since he's a prophet, I kinda trust his words."

"Where _is_ Kevin?"

"Yeah, I wanna talk with the little bastard." Dean was clearly frustrated.

"Uh, he's here but, um…"

Just then he popped up on the screen. "Hey! Guys, guys check us out! Come on, dude, do it with me, do it!"

Another man appeared. "Aw'right, aw'right. Charlie you, too. Counta' three. One, two…"

"We Garth'd the motherfucker!" They all cheered at once and then the two men stumbled away.

"What the hell?"

"Um…We were supposed to go out and hit some bars to celebrate and pick up chicks, but the boys got started ahead of me so…No chicks for me tonight."

Dean sighed and rubbed his head. "Okay. Well, then what happened?"

"Oh! We heard this banging noise from a closet, and we looked in and it was that dude, Crowley!"

The brothers looked at each other again.

"Yeah, I know, right? Apparently, Abaddon stole him from the hospital, and then carried him around with her, trying to get info."

"What kind of info?"

"Apparently, she wanted to be the head hell-bitch. But it requires some ritual and a spell, and Crowley had done it when he became King of Hell. But he wouldn't tell her. And she couldn't just kill him, or she wouldn't _really_ be in charge."

"Well, as soon as Kevin saw who it was, he threw the last jar at him but it didn't work. Whatever you guys did for that trial thing, made him part demon, part human."

She sat back in her chair. "He was really happy to see us. He was hugging Kevin…Oh, and guess what. He was totally lying about his mom being dead! He just sent her to Alaska under constant guard. She's on her way back now. And he gave Kevin the Leviathan tablet, no strings attached."

"Are you sure about that? He may be part human now, but he's probably still a sneaky son of a bitch."

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure. He even took us to see the new hell."

"The _what_?"

"Complete redesign. Crowley said he felt really bad for the people who have to go to hell who didn't do something really awful. So he fixed it. Hell is now a summer camp. It's an almost exact replica of that place in 'Dirty Dancing'."

Cas looked at Dean. "It's a movie, man, we'll watch it later."

Charlie leaned in. "You have a copy of 'Dirty Dancing'?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "Swayze! Swayze _always _gets a pass!"

"Whatever. Anyway, it looks like that, and people swim in the lake and play golf. But it isn't perfect."

She leaned in closer, her voice very dramatic. "Every other day, it rains and everyone is forced to play BINGO in the auditorium."

"That's it? That's hell now?"

Charlie leaned back and shrugged. "For people who weren't too bad. But people who did really bad stuff, like murder or rape, they have a special hell. There's a panel of judges who sees each person and decides where they go. And if they were bad enough, they get their own hell. Say a murderer, he would spend every day being murdered. A child molester would spend every day as their child self, being molested. Get the idea?"

Sam frowned. "Who are the judges?"

Charlie looked uncomfortable. "I, uh, think Crowley just conjured them up and he's the one really making decisions, but they look like…Simon Cowell, Paula Abdul, and Randy Jackson."

"No Steven Tyler?"

Charlie shrugged. "He preferred the original Idol lineup."

Sam still looked confused. "So…You die. And you either go to relive your greatest hits, or you spend eternity at a camp where you have to play BINGO every other day, or you live out your worst crimes?"

Charlie nodded. "Yep. That's it. Meaning of life. Or, death, I guess."

"So, Crowley just gave you the tablet, took you on a tour, and let you go?"

She nodded. "Yeah. The humanity you put in him made a huge difference. Oh, and he said to let you guys know if you ever need anything to just call. Well, he didn't say 'call' he said 'summon'."

"That's about all I got, guys."

"Um…Well, thanks Charlie. I guess we'll talk soon."

She held her hand up in what Cas now recognized as the Vulcan salute, and then disappeared from the screen. Dean and Cas sat at the table next to Sam. They were all quiet for a while.

"So, a prophet who only knows how to use a squirt gun, a LARPer, and a guy who manages not to trip over his feet on a good day took out one of the most powerful demons we've met. Sammy, I think we're off our game."

Sam shook his head. "And I was looking forward to it, after what happened with Henry."

"Cas, you got any thoughts on this?"

He had several thoughts, thoughts that had just occurred to him while listening to Charlie's tale. But he couldn't reveal them, they would be poorly received.

"Not really. That girl was very strange."

Dean laughed. "Yeah, but she's pretty cool."

XxXx

Three days later, and Dean was running down the side of the road in the middle of the night, cussing himself out in his head. He _knew_ something was wrong, he _knew_. But Cas had promised him that he wasn't going to do anything stupid, and he thought his acting weirder than usual was because of what that Ruth lady had said. Dean could only hope he'd find Cas out here somewhere, not hurt or…He couldn't finish that line of thought.

It had started about fifteen minutes earlier. Dean had been sound asleep, when Sam barged in, holding the side of his head. "Dean, wake up. Cas is gone."

He'd thought his heart had stopped for a minute, but he was getting out of the bed and sliding his boots on.

"What happened?"

"I got up and was going to the kitchen. Cas was at the door and I asked him what he was doing then he came at me and knocked me out. I was only down for about five minutes."

"Can you track his phone?"

"Already got it. Go left out of here, about a mile and a half and there will be a gravel road. He's somewhere down there."

Dean had been out the door before Sam finished talking.

He almost missed the gravel road in the dark, but he hurried down it. After some curves, Dean was relieved to see an old light post that flickered some…And Cas was there with someone. He ran a little faster.

Dean came skidding to a stop as he entered the clearing and Cas jumped when he saw him. He was looking really pissed off about something. The woman across from him was unfazed.

"Dean. What are you doing here?"

"Coming to get you, and then kill you, you son of a bitch. What's going on?"

"Well, well. Dean Winchester. It's been a while."

He took a closer look at the woman and their surroundings. The clearing was an area where four gravel roads met, and the woman was wearing a slinky black dress.

"Are you making a crossroads deal?"

"No," Cas snapped. "Because this _whore_ won't give me what I want!"

The woman laughed. "I told you, angel face. I can't do it. Demons can't bend time. But you knew that. And I can't just conjure an angel's Grace out of thin air. It is _impossible_ to do what you want."

"But…"

"You're trying to make a deal?" Dean was absolutely furious. "Are you that fucking stupid?"

"Desperate times call for desperate measures. If I remember my history, you made a deal and started the Apocalypse."

Dean glared at the demon. "This is none of your business, lady. Smoke out and go back home. We're leaving."

He grabbed Cas by the arm and started dragging him along back down the path he'd came through. Cas tried to get loose, but Dean clamped down.

"Dean…Let me go, maybe there's something else she can do…"

He stopped and shook him. "Do about what?"

"Ruth!"

Dean started walking again. "We are not dealing with demons. They're bad news, or didn't you learn that the last time you worked with them?"

There was silence all the way back to the bunker, and Dean didn't let go of his iron hold on Cas' arm for a second. He got to the door and knocked. One tap, three counts, three quick taps, two counts, two taps.

Sam pulled the door open and Dean shoved Cas in and he stumbled.

Sam looked pale and was holding an ice pack to the side of his head. "What happened?"

"This _idiot_ was trying to make a crossroads deal!"

Cas had regained his balance and suddenly looked just as angry as Dean.

"I was _trying_ to get my Grace back!"

"You said you let that go!"

Cas groaned and walked down the steps into the front room, followed by the brothers.

"Yeah, before someone much more powerful than me decided to try and kill us all."

"You agreed to stick it out, that we'd think of something." Dean was starting to feel his face heat up and he knew Cas was red, too.

"Well, we aren't thinking fast enough!"

"Cas, you sell your _soul_!"

"If I had a Grace, I wouldn't have a soul, not technically."

Dean grasped at his hair. "So you'd mojo back up, take out these guys then what? Restore Heaven?"

"If I could."

"So you were planning on leaving again."

Cas hit the table with the palm of his hand. "Why does everything circle back to this? You're a broken record, Dean!"

Dean took some deep breaths, but it wasn't helping much. "Look, I get that you thought you were trying to help, but…"

"Yeah, I get it, it was a stupid idea. I didn't really think it would work anyway. But it was worth a try."

Dean sighed and sat down. "No, it really wasn't. You could've got kidnapped out there. There's a reason we don't go out alone. Always breaking the rules like a fucking stupid child."

He realized what he said just after he said it. "Cas, I didn't…"

"Yes, you did." He started off towards his room, but stopped at the entrance to the hall, staring at the ground. "I apologize for striking you, Sam."

Then he was gone.

XxxX

Cas was absolutely not coming out of his room. Sam left him meals outside that disappeared, and he guessed he went to the bathroom, but he sure was sneaky about it. Sam had tried calling and texting him, to at least communicate in some way, but all he got was voicemail and 'please leave me alone Sam'.

It was like that for two days before Sam managed to catch him. He'd purposely taken a really long nap earlier, so he could stay up and see if Cas would appear. Sure enough, around one o'clock, he saw him slip out of his room in a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt he'd stolen from Dean. Sam rushed up to him before he could sneak back in his room again.

"Hey, Cas," He kept his voice low, so Dean wouldn't hear them.

"Hello." He looked shifty, and wouldn't meet Sam's eye.

"Look, I totally forgive you for the knocking me out thing. I get what you were trying to do. This whole family has always been about self-sacrificing for the others. I guess trying to sell your soul officially makes you an honorary Winchester."

Cas smiled very lightly. "How is Dean?"

"He's being an ass. I think he feels…"

Sam stopped when he noticed a huge mottled purple bruise on Cas' arm a few inches above his elbow. "Dude, what happened?"

He covered it self-consciously and dropped his eyes. "Nothing."

"Dean said he dragged you back, did he do that?"

"No."

Sam turned and barged into Dean's room. "Sam, don't…"

Dean sat up looking confused as the light came on in his room. "What the hell's goin' on, Sammy?"

Sam pointed at the bruise on Cas' arm. "_That's_ what's going on."

He didn't look like he understood for a minute and then he remembered.

"Oh…"

"Gonna take more than an 'oh', Dean. You two sort this out. Now."

XxXx

There was a really tense silence until Cas moved over and sat in the desk chair. "One of these days we'll have to have a fight and make up without Sam mediating."

"I don't wanna fight with you, Cas." It was almost a whisper.

"I don't either."

Dean swung his legs out of the bed and sat facing Cas. "We gotta be honest with each other. If you have some kind of plan you think might work, tell me, and we can work on it. Together."

"What would you have done had I came to you with this idea?"

"I'd have pointed out how stupid it was and saved me from almost having a heart attack when Sam said you had disappeared."

Cas nodded. "You think I'm stupid."

Dean resisted rolling his eyes. "No, I think you aren't thinking rationally right now about this situation. Which we _will_ take care of. Remember?"

"Yeah. I remember."

There was a brief silence. "Why didn't you tell me I was hurting you?"

Cas looked up at him and Dean could almost feel the sadness. "Because I thought you were angry enough to not care."

Dean came and kneeled in front of him. "I told you. A while back, that if I ever hurt you, I would do anything to make it up. If you'd said you were hurting, I would have eased off. I didn't realize I was holding on that hard, because yeah, I was mad. But no matter how mad I am, I'll never hurt you on purpose."

Cas' hands were in his lap, clasped together and Dean lifted them to kiss where his fingers met. "And I'm also sorry for calling you a child. I don't think of you that way, I promise."

He kissed his hands again.

"Now. What can I do to make it up to you?"

Cas looked startled. "Oh, no, Dean. You don't have to…"

Dean shut him up by leaning up and kissing him solidly on the mouth for a minute before backing away again. "Anything you want, Cas."

He looked shy all of a sudden. "Can we have pancakes for breakfast tomorrow?"

Dean laughed and bent down so his head rested on Cas' knee. "Typical. Anything in the world and you chose pancakes."

"With the strawberry syrup?"

"Whatever syrup you want. Anything else?"

Cas glanced at his arm. "Is there some sort of ointment that will make this hurt less?"

Dean had purposely not been looking closely at the bruised area on his arm, but finally made himself do it. It was mostly purple with a little bit of yellowing at the edges, almost the exact size of his hand.

"I am so sorry, Cas."

He sighed and pushed out of the chair so he was kneeling on the floor with Dean, who was staring down at the floor now. He felt Cas cup both sides of his face and leaned forward to kiss him. Cas hadn't initiated anything like this before, it had always been Dean. And then there was tongue, and that was even more surprising. Cas was always so passive, and while Dean had snuck his tongue in Cas' mouth the first time he could, it hadn't exactly been reciprocated this much.

But suddenly, Cas pulled back with a hiss. Dean looked to see what was wrong and realized he'd touched his arms, and hit the bruise there.

"Shit, Cas, I…"

Cas huffed in annoyance. "Quit apologizing!"

Dean smiled. "Sorry."

Cas smacked him on his knee, and he went 'ow!' even though he had barely felt it, then he went to the bathroom to get the ointment.

When he got back, Cas was sitting on the edge of his bed, Indian style. Dean sat next to him and turned so he could see his arm better.

He rubbed it in very gently, as gently as he could, making small circles with his thumb. Cas still winced every so often, but it didn't take long before he was through.

"There. We'll keep putting it on until it quits hurting so much."

"Thank you, Dean."

There was a brief silence, one broken by Dean trying to hold back a yawn.

"Is there anything else I can do, Cas?"

He smiled and got off the bed. "Yeah, you can go back to sleep. You can't sleep in, I'll be expecting my pancakes."

Dean rolled his eyes and got back in the bed. The sheets smelled a little bit like Cas, and he really liked that. He leaned over and kissed Dean on his forehead.

"'Night, babe."

"Goodnight, Dean."

Cas shut the light off and closed the door, and Dean was almost instantly asleep.

XXxx

The next morning, Sam was more than pleased to see that his brother and Cas had made up. They were in the kitchen, Cas sitting on the counter and laughing at something Dean was joking around about.

Sam walked in the room and smelled what was cooking.

"Oh, man, pancakes!"

He just shrugged. "Cas wanted them."

Sam sighed. He understood Dean and Cas' relationship wasn't exactly a normal one, because, well, almost anything they did wasn't normal. So Sam had kind of hoped that they would skip the annoyingly cute couple phase that normal people usually went through. It looked like he was wrong. Maybe this wouldn't last long, it was just because they'd made up the night before.

The pancakes were awesome, and then he and Dean had to go into town on a food run, leaving Cas in the bunker.

They bickered through the store, like they always did, arguing about stuff like vegetables and 'what the fuck is a cumquat? It sounds dirty, Sam'.

When they finally got away from the fruits and vegetables, and Dean started throwing things in the cart like Doritos and Sam was sneaking granola bars in, he felt that the time was right to be having a talk with his brother, one that he felt needed to be had since last night. And any excuse to get Dean all flustered up was okay with him.

"So…You and Cas."

Dean scowled at the dried fruit and nut mix Sam had just tossed in. "What about me and Cas?"

"What's going on there, 'cause I can't always tell with you guys."

"Not much to tell, Sammy. We're still friends, but there's just more…you know, stuff."

Sam held back a laugh. This was his brother who had told him disgusting details of his sexcapades for years and now he was too shy about this. Priceless.

"And it's not your business, anyhow."

"So, it's like a friends with benefits thing?"

"There's no…I'm not talkin' about this with you. Me and Cas don't need to be labeled."

Dean was blushing more by the second, and put the coffee that was Cas' favorite in the cart. This was fun.

"But you guys are a thing now, right?"

He groaned and sank his head down into his hands. "Yeah, sure whatever, we're a _thing_, are you happy?"

Sam didn't bother him anymore as they went through the store, getting hamburger meat, bread, beer, sodas, milk, bacon, eggs, flour, and he snuck in some yogurt, _real_ cheese, and organic honey.

They were soon in the checkout lane.

"Dean, you know I really like Cas, right? He's a good friend and I like to think of him as a second brother."

"Good to know, Sammy."

"But I gotta say if you hurt him like that again, I'll chop your balls off."

Dean looked insulted. "That was a total accident! And shouldn't you be having this conversation with him, not me?"

Sam just raised his eyebrows at him, an expression Dean had once called his 'bitch, please' face.

"Unbelievable," Dean huffed under his breath as he started unloading the cart on to the sliding belt.

Sam left Dean alone again as they put all the groceries in the back seat of the Impala and started back to the bunker. They were stopped at the last red light in town.

"So, have you gotten to second base yet?"

Dean groaned and leaned into the steering wheel, accidently making the car honk, and scaring an old lady walking down the sidewalk. Sam couldn't stop laughing for a while after that.

"Do I ask inappropriate questions about your…"

"_Yes_," Sam cut him off, still chuckling some.

Dean just grumbled down the road, and retaliated by turning the radio up to eleven.

They finally got home, and Sam thought he was gonna be deaf for the next hour or two. They unloaded all the groceries and stacked them near the door, and Dean knocked.

They waited a minute, and Dean started to look worried. But then they could hear Cas.

"Uhm, Dean? I know you wrote it down for me, but I've misplaced the paper, and I don't remember the correct sequence of knocks."

Dean dropped his head back and sighed. "Cas, it's…it's us, I promise."

"You could be shifters."

He looked like he was considering banging his head on the bunker door. "Well, let us in and we'll do the silver test."

There was a long pause, then Cas opened the door quickly and chucked two spoons at their heads. Dean managed to catch his, but Sam was slower and it hit him on the shoulder. He leaned down to pick it up. It was heavy; pure silver.

"Cas. What the hell?" For a change, Dean didn't look mad, just kind of dumbfounded.

"Silver. Shifters can't touch it, right? I always thought it was ridiculous, you guys always cutting yourselves."

"So you threw spoons at us?"

Cas tilted his head. "Yeah," like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Dean huffed again, and started grabbing bags and taking them to the kitchen. "Help us with these, would you?"

Cas looked confused. "Have I done something wrong?"

Sam shook his head and grinned. "I gave him a little bit of trouble and he's just being…"

"I'm not being anything, Sammy is just a pile of douche-nozzles!" Dean yelled from the kitchen.

XxxX

The next few days were bright and sunny, and Cas really, really wanted to go out to the garden. He couldn't go out alone, though, so he had to convince Dean to go out with him. It wasn't terribly hard to do.

Cas had long since finished his 'memoir', as Sam called it, and had begun working on his own project. He had found a blank notebook in one of the rooms, and had been working on sketching things with a pencil. It was very enjoyable, but he wanted to draw something that was outside.

He chose to sit on the bench that Dean had made, while Dean himself had laid out a blanket in a patch of sunshine not far away, and he was resting there, wearing a pair of sunglasses.

Cas was concentrating on a flower, and he had thought Dean was asleep before he spoke.

"Cas?"

"Hmm?" He kept drawing.

"What happens to angels when they die?"

That shook him out of his concentration quite a bit. "Why are you asking?"

"Well…Humans go to Heaven or Hell, monsters go to Purgatory. What happens to angels?"

Cas set his book aside. "We were never born, and instead of a soul, we have…had our Grace. So, when an angel dies, its Grace simply flashes out of existence. Michael told us that our Graces were formed by God from stardust. So I suppose that's what happens. We return to stardust."

Dean seemed to think about that for a while. "What about animals?"

Cas had to smile. "Animals have souls. They go to Heaven, exclusively. As far as I know, no animal has gone to Hell."

"Then…Where do, uhm…Hellhounds come from?"

"They are demonic entities. Souls so tortured they surpass being demons and become animalistic instead."

Dean hummed. "So…Where do demons and hellhounds go when they die?"

"They disperse, like an angel does. Except they disperse into a sort of sulfur gas and fade into the atmosphere."

Dean was quiet. "Why do you ask these questions?"

"Dunno. Just curious, and I never thought to ask before." He turned his head so he was looking at Cas and smiled. "Feeling philosophical today."

"You know, you probably could have looked all that up in the archives inside."

Dean snorted. "That's Sammy's thing. Why go through all those dusty books when I can just ask Mr. Know-It-All."

Cas smiled. "I hardly know everything, Dean."

He grew quiet again, and Cas resumed his sketching, and they stayed out well into the afternoon.

XXxx

"I would like to summon Death."

Dean choked on his grilled chicken and Sam had to slap him on the back a few times.

"Are you crazy," he finally got out, his eyes still watering.

Cas shook his head. "No. I found the ritual here in the archives. You gave me the idea Dean, when we were talking about the afterlife a few days ago. It wouldn't bind him, just summon him. He's helped in the past, maybe he can help now."

Dean leaned his elbows on the table and rubbed his temples. "Dude, do you remember the last time we dealed with Death?"

Cas frowned, matching Dean's angry expression with his own. "Yes. I do. I unchained him from you after _you_ called him _your bitch_."

Sam looked like he was trying really hard not to laugh. Cas carried on. "Then he arranged for an eclipse to open Purgatory, and you two and Bobby saved me."

"And he put my soul back together, Dean. He gave us his ring when we needed it and told us how to open the cage. This might be a good idea."

Dean looked between the two. "You're both serious? You want to bring Death _here_?"

Cas nodded. "It's just a summoning. He can refuse to come, if he wants."

He leaned back and sighed. "Yeah, okay, fine. He's probably not gonna be happy to see us, so if anyone gets fucking _reaped_ it's on you two."

Sam went on eating. "What're we gonna need, Cas?"

"Most of it I've seen in some of the storage rooms here. But there are a few things we should be able to get from a store in town."

Dean zoned out while the two of them talked back and forth about the ritual, and how it was supposed to go. He knew Death had been a huge help in the past, and he was really grateful for it, but it was…You know, _Death_. Dealing with him was like playing with fire. One wrong move and your ass is toast. He did not want Cas', Sam's, or his own ass to be toasted.

"Dean?"

He jerked his head up, realizing he'd just been staring at his plate for however long.

"Huh?"

"Me and Cas'll go into town tomorrow morning, and then we'll do the summoning when we get back."

"Uhm, yeah. Alright. That's…good."

For the rest of the afternoon, Dean felt off. He was restless, he guessed. Sam and Cas were hunting for stuff around the bunker, and he wanted to stay out of their way, so he hung out in his room a while 'til he got bored, then went to the TV room, but there wasn't anything he felt like watching, so he cleaned the kitchen up some. He really wished he hadn't imposed that 'two people at a time' rule, because he would _love_ to get in his Baby and just drive around for a while.

He eventually went back to his room and texted Charlie and then Kevin to see how things were going. Charlie was on her way for a massive yearly Moondoor meet-up, where she would be competing with the other Queens in 'glorious battle' to win the title of Her Imperial Majesty for a year. Kevin was taking a break from hunting with Garth to hang out with his mom. Dean told them both to 'have fun', and then he didn't know what else to do.

Dean checked the time and realized it was past dark, and Cas and Sam were probably done with their Easter egg hunt. He peaked his head out of his room and saw that light was coming out from under Cas' door. He knocked.

"Come in."

Cas was sitting in an arm chair that Dean had helped him move into his room, so he would have a comfortable reading spot, and that's what he was doing, reading one of his slightly worn books.

"Hello Dean. I was wondering if I was going to see you."

Dean sighed and sat on the side of Cas' bed. "Yeah, I know I've been hiding out."

"There's no need to be nervous…"

"No need? Cas, he could kill all of us with a blink if he wanted to. He is the _only_ thing we have ever seen that there is no defense from."

He set his book aside. "Dean, I've thought of all that. But it's the only way of getting the information we need. He would be able to give us their number, their locations…Sam thinks it's a good plan."

Dean just crossed his arms and said nothing.

"Dean? Tell me what you're thinking."

He wanted to be stubborn and just go back and brood in his own room, but Cas had caught his eyes, and Dean could see he was a little concerned. Damn bastard had him wrapped around his finger…

"Fine. I'm thinking that this time tomorrow we could all be rotting corpses here in this stupid bunker, and I'm not down with that." He huffed, but Cas just tilted his head at him and squinted slightly.

"Is this another version of your 'last night on Earth' speech?"

Dean felt his jaw drop, and he knew he was just sitting there, looking more stupider by the second. "What? No! That's…Why would you think that!"

Cas smiled at him. It wasn't his usual smile either, this one had a hint of teasing to it. "If I remember correctly, one night when you thought I would be dead the next day, you promised me you weren't going to let me die a virgin."

He was feeling extremely uncomfortable now, and he knew he was fucking _blushing_, and this was all kinds of messed up. It was getting really hot in here, Cas would keep it hot, though. Did he need water, he thought he needed water.

He suddenly heard Cas laugh. "God, Dean, the look on your face!"

Dean relaxed a little, breathing a sigh of relief. "Yeah, ha ha, very funny."

"Don't worry, Dean, I'm not really ready for something that intense with you yet, and from that expression on your face just now, I'd say you aren't either."

"Uhm. No, not really. This stuff, you know, with a guy. It's kinda new. Wanna ease ourselves into it."

Dean heard the words come out of his mouth and groaned at the innuendo and picked up a pillow from the bed and tried to suffocate himself with it. Cas yanked it out of his hands and sat next to him on the bed. He reached over and took Dean's hand.

"Would you like to sleep in here tonight? Or we could sleep in your room."

"What?"

Cas smiled and kissed him, something that was happening more and more frequently, not that Dean was complaining. "I would like to sleep in the same bed with you."

He moved so he was straddling Dean's lap, and he put his hands on Dean's shoulders. Dean automatically put his arms around Cas' waist to keep him in place, and it was Dean initiating kisses this time, but Cas pulled back after a few minutes, face and lips redder than usual.

"If this is going to be our last night, I want to spend it sleeping in your arms."

That kind of sent Dean on a loop. What was he supposed to say to that? Things between him and Cas, even as friends, had always been intense. And the amount of sheer _adoration_ Cas showed him, still, after everything they had gone through…It was almost too much.

It really hit him, then. How totally much in love Dean was with Cas. And he didn't have a problem with that.

"Dean?"

He realized he'd been quiet for too long and Cas was starting to look nervous.

"I really want that too, babe."

They ended up in Dean's room, since his bed was a little bigger. They took their turns in the bathroom, changing into sleep clothes and the nightly routine, then they both got under the covers.

It took some shuffling around and elbows and knees in weird places, but they finally got wrapped around one another, both comfortably. Dean was rubbing circles above Cas' hip, just under his shirt and they were both almost asleep.

"Cas?"

"Hmm."

"Promise me you'll be careful tomorrow."

Cas curled a little bit closer in. "I promise. Can you make one of those incredible cheeseburgers? I know he'd like to have one."

Dean had to chuckle. He was gonna be making Death lunch. It was kinda funny.

"'Night, babe."

"Goodnight, mon ange."

From the way Cas pronounced it, it sounded French, but they were both asleep before Dean could ask what it meant.

xxXX

The next morning, Sam woke up, and since he was usually the first up, he went on ahead and got his shower and the rest of his morning routine going. He got dressed and went into the library, planning on doing something on his computer before Dean or Cas got up. Then he heard voices coming from the kitchen. Curious, he went to look.

Cas was sitting on the counter again, drinking coffee, and Dean was cooking. He looked around when he heard Sam.

"Mornin' Sammy."

He sat down at the table. "You guys are up early."

"Yeah, big day." Dean turned back to the stove. "Cas, you wanna get the plates out?"

Sam could hear the tenseness in his brother's voice. He knew Dean wasn't all too thrilled about Death being called for a visit, but it really was the best option they could think of.

He watched Cas trying to be helpful in the kitchen, and the looks they were sharing. Sam guessed something had happened over the night. He didn't really want to think about it.

After breakfast, he and Cas got ready to leave. They checked the room they had picked for the summoning, and Cas checked over the manuscript again to make sure they had everything, and that what they didn't have was on the list. He put the list in a pocket inside his jacket, and they were ready.

Dean was pacing around in the front room, waiting on them.

"Okay, Dean, we're going now."

Dean nodded and looked at the two of them. "Just be careful, alright?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "It's a trip to town, man. We aren't going into a vamp nest or something."

He attempted a smile, but it looked off. "Well, you know how much I worry when you drive my car around."

Sam shook his head, and went up the staircase. Cas stayed with Dean for another moment, and they talked quietly enough that Sam couldn't tell what they were saying. After a bit, Cas and Dean came up the steps too, and Dean still looked nervous.

"Okay, guys. Good luck with the shopping."

Sam and Cas went out the door, and Dean closed it behind him, and the lock clanked, echoing weirdly.

The sky was dark, almost blackish grey, and the wind was blowing harder than normal. For a moment, for whatever reason, Sam suddenly felt his brother's nervousness. If Cas was affected, it didn't show.

"It may rain today."

XxxX

It was time.

Everything was ready, Cas had the incantation in front of him, Dean had made two of his delicious cheeseburgers and a chocolate milkshake with the promise that if Death didn't kill them he'd make more later, and all the spell ingredients were ready.

Cas stood at the table, trying not to be scared. This was important, and it needed to be done correctly. He had to be confident right now, like Dean or Sam would be.

He started reading off the paper, adding certain things with words as he went along. He was oddly proud that his voice didn't falter. There was a little bang of smoke, and then he was supposed to cut his hand over the silver bowl, and while he did that, his voice did shake a little. It had never hurt before when he'd done spells like this. The last ingredients were in, and Cas spoke the last words.

Nothing was happening.

They waited in silence for a minute.

"Did you say the words right?"

He turned and glared at Dean. They waited for a while, and Sam helped him clean and wrap some gauze around his hand. Dean was getting impatient.

"Hey Death, your food's gettin' cold!"

Then the voice came from the back corner of the room. "I appreciate the sentiment, Castiel. You altered the wording to be extremely polite."

Death walked over, and sat in the arm chair with the food next to it. "Ah. The Men of Letters Headquarters. I've not been here in a while."

Everyone was tense now, even though Death seemed very laid back. But then, he was always like that. He took the plate of cheeseburgers.

"This is wonderful, Dean. If I didn't know better, I'd think you're trying to butter me up for something."

Cas cleared his throat. "We would like to ask some questions."

"You may ask. I make no promise to answer."

He realized his hands were shaking and he held them tighter. He hadn't told Dean or Sam about this part. "Is there a way for me to get my Grace back?"

Death just looked at him and shook his head. "It's gone, Castiel. You know that. The road to acceptance can be long."

Cas nodded. "Then may I borrow your ring?" He felt Sam and Dean stiffen behind him.

"What for?"

"I…I would like to free Michael from the Cage."

"Cas," Dean hissed. "Are you out of your Goddamn mind?"

Death sipped on the milkshake. "Castiel, once again you will try to attempt to do something, that the consequences of which would be…undesirable. Should you open the Cage, and let Michael out he will also free his brother, and the Apocalypse that you three sacrificed so much to prevent would happen. Besides, the last time Michael saw you, you burnt him. He may not be happy to see you again."

"But he can restore the remaining angels to Heaven."

"True. But he wouldn't until the fight with Lucifer is finished. The time spent in Hell would have warped his Grace into something savage. He and his brother have more in common now than they ever did before."

Death sighed and set the cup aside. "And don't bother to ask me where God is because I don't know. If I did know, I wouldn't tell you anyway."

He stood up and walked around the room, everyone taking steps away from him. "These questions are not the ones you intended to ask me. You want to know about the fallen angels who are looking for you."

Cas nodded. "What can you tell us about them?"

Death raised his eyebrows. "Many things."

Dean huffed, clearly in annoyance. "You wanna be more specific?"

He just paced some more. "Every angel that fell lost some amount of their Grace. Most of them lost all of it, and their vessels died when they crashed. It was a good night for my reapers."

He turned back to look at them. "The ones who survived have little to no memory of being an angel. They are as you are. Completely human. But others maintained some degree of their Grace. Most of these are like the ones who became human, they have no memory of who they were, yet they can do extraordinary things."

Death sat back down in his chair. "But a small number, seventy-five exactly, remember. A varying degree of power and abilities are still in them, yet they are still no longer angels. They _can_ die. They can also still communicate with each other telepathically, which gives them a great advantage. Their leader is Ruth, who I believe you have already met."

Cas could feel Dean come up behind him. "Where are they?"

"They are in many places. A good number occupy near here, waiting for the opportune moment to strike. Which will be soon. But their headquarters is the Smokestone Meat Factory. You may recall it. It's an abandoned slaughterhouse on the outskirts of Lawrence."

Cas could almost feel Dean roll his eyes. "Why is it always Lawrence?"

Death grinned. "Oh, it's not just Castiel they want to punish, they want to punish you and your brother as well."

"What the hell did we do?"

He shrugged. "You two are very close to Castiel. They assume that you must have also been involved in their falling. They seek vengeance for what was done to their family and their home."

Death looked at Dean and Sam very seriously. "Not that you would know what that's like."

He stood up and adjusted his suit. "If that is all?"

Cas stepped forward. "One more question."

Death leaned on his cane and waited expectantly.

"Where is the Colt pistol?"

"Good question, Castiel. No one has been looking for that thing in years, you'd think they'd forgotten about it."

He glanced at the brothers. "Carthage. Where Lucifer raised and chained me. It's buried in a box under the coffin of one Mr. Peter Monroe."

There was no fan fair, a second later and Death had disappeared.

XxXx

The rest of the afternoon passed in a tense silence. Not long after Death left, the sky had opened and there was a massive thunderstorm and they could hear the wind howling, even in the bunker.

Dean had made good on his promise and they had cheeseburgers and chocolate milkshakes for dinner, but no one said much. Death's words seemed to be echoing through all of their minds, and Dean was focused most particularly on what he had said about the mangels attacking soon. How soon was soon? He was worried enough about that to push out any anger he had had at Cas and his stupid 'let's free the insane Archangels' plan.

He kinda understood, and to be honest, he was kind of expecting something like that. He and Sam had clearly been a bad influence on him over the years, because Cas was proving, time and time again, that he would do just about anything to get what he thought needed to be done.

After dinner, everyone went their separate ways in the bunker, since no one really wanted to be talking right now. Sam went into the TV room and put in some incredibly boring sounding documentary he'd picked up about the environment. Dean went back to his room and put a Beatles record on. He didn't listen to them often, because he knew these were his mom's favorite songs, but he liked to put them on when he was down. The last he had seen of Cas, he'd been sitting in the library, but he wasn't looking at anything.

At some point, even though it was pretty early when he laid down to enjoy his music, Dean must have drifted off to sleep, because he suddenly jolted when there was a knock on his door. He got up, stiff because he'd been sitting on the edge of the bed and just fallen back. Not the most comfortable position. He flipped the record off. "Yeah, come in."

It was Cas, and Dean immediately knew something was off with him. He swayed slightly where he stood, he looked like he was having a hard time focusing his eyes on Dean, and he seemed very serious about something.

He just stood there awhile, not saying anything.

"Uh, Cas? You alright, man?"

He frowned. "I have one more idea."

Cas said it and held up one finger, and his words were a little slurred together.

Dean stared at him. "Are you drunk?"

He shook his head. "No."

Dean walked closer to him, and didn't have to get too close to smell the whiskey on his breath. He was willing to bet that the bottle they kept in the pantry was now empty.

"Uh, yeah, I think you are, Cas."

He reached out and grabbed Dean by his elbows. "I have one more idea."

Dean sighed. "Okay, what's the idea?"

Cas shook his finger in Dean's face. "Just one. Just the one, Dean, I promise then I give up. I'll give up and admit it to myself that I'm stuck in this tiny flesh cage for the next…whenever."

"Yeah, sure. Whatever you say, Cas."

He nodded, still looking at Dean very seriously. "You need to sit on your bed and take off your shirt."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Why?"

Cas leaned in really close and whispered, like it was a big secret. "It's part of the plan."

Dean huffed and sat back down on the side of his bed, and stripped off the long sleeved shirt he'd been wearing. "Fine. Now what?"

Cas made some weird, shooing motion with his hands. "Lie down."

"Huh?"

He made the shooing motion again, and Dean grumbled and turned so he was at least on his pillows this time. "Whatever plan you've got in mind, Cas, I hope it's a good one."

Dean nearly jolted out of the bed again when Cas, with remarkable coordination considering how drunk he was, got on top of him, straddling his thighs and leaning over him, his hands near Dean's shoulders. Cas bent his head down closer to Dean's and he could feel him nosing at his hair. "You smell really pretty."

Dean was kinda sure part of his brain wasn't working right, but he managed to get out, "Thanks. Uh, you too."

Cas sat back up, and he was suddenly serious again. "When I grabbed you from Hell, I left a mark on you."

Dean lifted up his arm and turned it so he could look at it. The handprint that was almost faded away. He doubted it would ever completely fade, but he really didn't mind. Although, it had been tough to explain to some of his hook-ups how exactly a hand was scarred onto his arm.

"Yeah, you sure did."

"Dean, that's where I was holding you when I recreated your body. My Grace put all the pieces where they were supposed to go, but, see, I had to _touch_ you…physically. To reanimate you."

Cas wasn't making too much sense. "Okay, well how did you leave a handprint if you were some kind of…light thing?"

He rolled his eyes as if explaining things to a child. "My vessel was already chosen, I could take on a kinda form, but if you were to see me…"

"My eyes would burn out. So you touched my arm with a really, _really_ bright version of Jimmy?"

"Basically. Yeah."

"Okay. So how does that lead into this?" Dean waved at them both in the bed.

"I think. If I touch that handprint, I may be able to draw Grace from it."

Dean thought this was a really weird idea. "Uh, well, okay then. Go on ahead and try it."

Cas looked at him very seriously, then leaned over again so he could touch him on the shoulder, exactly where the print was. Dean didn't feel anything, other than Cas had cold hands, but that was nothing new. He pressed in harder and was biting his bottom lip, eyes closed and face scrunched up like he was really focusing.

Nothing was happening. "Uhm, Cas…"

"Shut up, Dean this is gonna work, just give me a minute."

"Look, it's been years. I'm pretty sure anything left behind would have, you know, leaked back over to you. I'm sorry, but…"

Cas pulled back suddenly, and sat so he was just over Dean's thighs again. He started shaking, and it took Dean a minute to realize he was crying, and suddenly the crying turned into sobbing. "Oh, babe…"

Dean sat up and pulled Cas to him. He kinda wished he had his shirt on, because now his chest was all wet and he was getting cold, and he hoped that Cas wasn't gonna get snot all over him. But it was okay if he did. Dean just wanted to hold Cas, and hope that helped him feel better.

Yeah, he was definitely whipped.

Eventually, the crying calmed down into weak sniffles, and then stopped entirely. Cas made a move to pull back, and Dean loosened his arms so that he could.

Cas frowned and rubbed his hands over Dean's chest. "Sorry."

Dean had to wait a minute for his head to clear, because Cas moving his hands like that was really distracting him. "Uh, no babe, it's okay. Don't be sorry."

It was almost like Cas had read his mind, because a second later, he was kissing Dean. And it wasn't how they normally did this, because it was sloppy, and Cas was way more into it than he had been before. Cas was a really bipolar drunk. Overly serious, then sad, then horny.

Before Dean was exactly registering what was happening, Cas had pushed them so they were back in their original positions, Dean lying down and Cas straddled over top of him. Dean managed to get his head turned away, but Cas just managed to latch on to his neck like a leech.

"Uh, Cas, you sure you wanna be doing this?"

Dean could feel him hum against his throat, and then he moved so he was closer, and ground his hips against Dean's.

He wasn't gonna lie. That felt fucking awesome, and he was man enough to admit that he had made an obsene groan at that. Cas was kissing and sucking down to Dean's chest now, and he realized he had pushed his hands up Cas' shirts, making them ride up to his ribs, and was running his hands up and down his back, and when had that happened?

But Cas was drunk and Dean wasn't, and as much as he wanted this to be going on, he knew that this wasn't the way _this_ was supposed to be happening. Dean moved his hands to Cas' shoulders.

"Cas, stop it."

There was a very uncharacteristic growl and Cas grabbed his hands and pinned them down to the bed near Dean's head.

"Seriously, man, quit."

Cas wasn't stopping. Dean sighed. He didn't want to do this. But hopefully he'd forgive him in the morning when he was hungover and not off his ass drunk.

It was easy to get his feet around Cas' knees and flip them both off the bed, although that had ground their hips together again and Dean had a second of regret for doing this. Cas was surprised enough landing on the floor to completely let go of Dean and he jumped up and grabbed his shirt, pulling it back on. Cas was just sitting on the floor looking confused. Dean helped him stand up.

There were tears in his eyes. Looked like drunk horny Cas had turned back into drunk sad Cas.

"Dean?"

"Hey, babe. Look, I'm sorry. But I think you're gonna thank me when you're thinking straight again."

The tears started falling. "You don't want me?"

Dean sighed and pulled him into a hug again. "Not when you're drunk out of your mind, I don't. I'm not gonna take advantage of you, okay? That's not cool."

Cas sniffled again, but didn't say anything. Dean pulled away and took his hand. "Come on, I'll help you get into bed."

He led Cas to his own room and got his shoes off for him and pulled the covers up, then put a trash can next to his bed. "You're gonna feel like shit in the morning, babe. Sorry in advance."

Cas smiled sleepily and he snuggled his face into his pillow. Weird, now drunk sad Cas had turned into drunk sleepy Cas. "Thank you, mon ange."

Dean crouched down. "What does that mean?"

Cas shook his head. "Not your dictionary. Look it up."

Dean laughed. "Yeah, okay. Goodnight, Cas."

XxxX

When Sam got up the next morning, and he went into the kitchen to start a pot of coffee, he saw Cas sitting with his elbows on the table and his forehead in his hands. He was worried at first, and was about to ask if he was okay, but then Sam saw the empty bottle on the kitchen counter and grinned.

"'Morning, Cas." He spoke a little louder than he usually would.

Cas moaned and slumped over the table some more.

Sam had to hold back a laugh. "How's your first human hangover going?"

He just shook his head. Sam went into the kitchen and started the coffee, then went to work on cooking the greasiest breakfast he could manage. He brought Cas a cup of the coffee and a large glass of water.

"Here, man, this'll help some. Gotta stay hydrated. Have you already been sick?" Sam lowered his tone, feeling some sympathy for his friend.

Cas' voice was muffled a little. "Yes. It was disgusting. And I hurt."

"I'll grab you some Tylenol. Hey, Dean, watch the food will you?"

Dean had just come out of the hall where the bedrooms were and nodded. For some reason, Cas slumped further down and groaned.

Sam shrugged and went to the bathroom where they kept most of the medicine they had and shook out a couple of pills. When he went back into the kitchen, Dean was cooking with an amused look on his face, and Cas was finally sitting up, blinking around groggily and looking mortified. "Here you go, man."

"Thank you, Sam."

Sam joined Dean in the kitchen, getting out plates and stuff. "So, what happened?"

"Whatcha talking about, Sammy?"

"Why'd Cas drink about a quarter of a bottle of whiskey?"

Dean shrugged. "I never did ask the why, but I figured it had something to do with what Death said about the mangels coming soon. And he's totally given up. On getting his Grace back again. Probably that."

"So you guys talked last night?"

Dean glanced over at him. "Me and Cas talk a lot."

That was vague. "Well, yeah, but…"

"Alright, food's all done."

Sam huffed. There was something Dean wasn't telling him, and he was gonna find out what it was.

Cas had taken the pills and was on his second coffee and third glass of water when Sam set the plate full of greasy fried eggs, bacon, extremely buttered toast, and fried hashbrowns. He turned a little pale.

"Sam, are you certain this is a good idea?"

Sam and Dean sat down with their own plates. "It's worked for me. Worth a try, I guess."

Cas nodded and started picking at his food. Sam noticed he was refusing to look at Dean, and Dean seemed to not notice.

"Okay, what's up with you guys?"

Dean shrugged again. "Nothing, Sammy, why?"

"Cas won't look at you."

Cas turned red, but was insistent on concentrating eating.

"Well, he's really something else when he's drunk. Maybe he remembers doing something embarrassing." Dean chuckled, and went right on eating.

Cas wasn't saying anything. "So…You two are okay? I don't have to threaten anyone to make you guys talk to each other?"

"Nope. Me and Cas are just fine. Right, babe?"

Sam felt weird. That was the first time Dean had called Cas that in front of him, and while Sam had seen his brother doing a lot worse, this felt different.

Cas finally made himself look up and look at Dean. He smiled slightly, and looked a little bit relieved. "Yeah. Fine."

He knew he was intruding into something, so he decided to let it go. He wasn't going into couple's therapy if he could help it.

"Okay. Cool."

Later, after the coffee, breakfast, and pain pills kicked in, Cas seemed to be feeling better. The first hangover always seemed to be the worst, and it looked like Cas had really over done it the night before.

He and Dean had settled in to watch a movie, and Sam decided to sit in with them, mostly because he knew Dean hadn't seen 'Batman Begins' often enough to quote along with the dialogue.

Much.

Sam noticed that Dean and Cas weren't sitting as close as they normally did when they watched movies together. At first, he just thought it was because he was there, but soon there was a tactile tension in the room, and Sam got the feeling like he was intruding on something again. They weren't fighting though, it was just like some kind of awkwardness coming from both of them.

He shook his head, and concentrated on the movie. 'None of your business', he told himself. After the movie was over, Sam made an excuse that he had to pack for the trip they were taking to Missouri the next day, to get the Colt. He'd already packed, but he had no problem hiding out in his room for a while.

xxXX

Cas wanted very much to avoid Dean. He had told him before breakfast that he wanted to talk to him at some point before they left the next day. Cas was not looking forward to that conversation. Even though Dean was obviously _not_ mad at him, and acted very normal towards him, Cas was still nervous.

He had mortified himself the night before and was extremely ashamed. Cas wanted to hide and stay hidden for the rest of his life. He had heard that when people get drunk, they forgot whatever had happened while they were inebriated, or at least some of it. He seemed to be an exception.

Cas could remember everything that happened the night before, in horribly vivid imagery. He'd felt really down, and realized this would be a point when someone should get drunk. So he found the bottle of whiskey and drank it. He honestly didn't expect it to affect him as much as it did. And then he had an epiphany, about the handprint he left on Dean.

So he found him, and proceeded to embarrass himself. Dean had been telling him to stop and he hadn't listened. He knew that was a very bad thing to do, something that could be unforgivable. But Dean seemed once again to be determined to ignore that. He had helped him, made sure he was okay. When Cas had woken around six thirty that morning, the trash can next to his bed proved invaluable.

Cas had a room he was hiding in at the moment. He seemed to have a gift for finding hiding spaces. It was on a different level of the bunker, not very far from the shooting range. It was a largish room, obviously used by the Men of Letters as some sort of storage room. There was an ancient Egyptian sarcophagus, empty, he had checked for a mummy. There were also Ming vases, a few missing pieces of art works, a model of Da Vinci's flying machine, and many other things he had yet to uncover. For now, he was sketching the sarcophagus. Something to keep his mind calm and occupied.

He jumped when the door opened and Dean came in. He was shocked enough to blurt out, "How'd you find me?"

Dean just smiled and shut the door behind him. "Honestly? I've just been wandering around and opening all the doors."

He came over and sat on the ground next to Cas. "Hey, that looks cool. You checked for a mummy right?"

Cas nodded. "It is empty."

"Damn. It'd be awesome to have a mummy. We could put it in Sammy's room one night and scare the crap out of him."

Cas sighed and put his sketchbook aside. "You said we needed to talk. And I agree."

Dean reached over and took his hand, interlocking their fingers. "Yeah. I kinda need to tell you something."

"Okay." He could tell Dean felt uncomfortable with whatever he was going to say.

"Remember when, a few years back, Zachariah sent me to a weird possible future? And all I told you about it was that the Croatoan Virus had spread and Sam had said yes to Lucifer?"

Cas nodded. "Well, there was some other stuff that went on, too. And I didn't want to mention it, because there was no way that future could be possible, and it all freaked me out."

Dean squeezed his hand tighter. "You were there. You told me all the angels had left, and you had become human. You were…It was kinda bad. Constantly drinking, taking pills and drugs and having…orgies."

Cas shook his head. "That sounds very uncharacteristic of me."

He smiled, but it was a little forced. "Yeah, I know. Just…Last night made me think about it. Don't think…I mean, everyone should get drunk every once in a while. You remember how I used to be. Constantly drinking, burying everything under alcohol. I know things are rough, but I don't want…"

Cas stopped him, realizing what was going on. "You're concerned I will make a habit of what happened last night. That I may become that person you met in the false future."

"I'm not proud of it, Cas. It's not any of my business what you do or don't do. It's not like we're, you know…stuff."

Cas was genuinely confused now. "Dean, I'm not sure what you're talking about."

"I, well…What do you think? What am I to you?"

Cas didn't quite understand the question, but tried to answer. "You are my friend who I have significant amorous feelings for. I think the normal term is 'boyfriend'. Yes, that is what I think of you as. My boyfriend. So it is your business, and I appreciate your concern. However, judging by how I felt this morning, I will never drink that much at once ever again."

He glanced over and Dean had a rare, full smile on his face. "Uhm. Good. That's good. And I think of you the same way. What you said…Me, too. Boyfriend."

Cas knew Dean was uncomfortable talking about things like this. So he changed the subject slightly. "I apologize for my actions last night."

"Oh, hey, don't worry. I'm sorry I had to flip you on the floor. I just thought it would be better if the first time we do any of…that, we should both be mostly sober. You know?"

Cas leaned closer and kissed Dean on his temple. "I appreciate that. Thank you."

"Cas, I wanted to ask you something else. Why'd you ask Death where the Colt was?"

He smiled. "The gun that can kill almost anything. It would be good to have, wouldn't it? And it would be safe here, so no one else could use it for less than noble purposes."

"Sam figured Lucifer destroyed it."

"Apparently not. I imagine he thought you would believe he destroyed it, and then hid it so you wouldn't look for it. It would remain lost for an incredibly long time."

"Well, I'm glad you thought of it."

There was a silence, but it was a comfortable one. They simply sat there, holding each other's hands.

Then Dean shifted. "Uhm. Cas, you know that thing we did night before last? Us sleeping in my room?"

Cas nodded. "Yeah. What about it?"

"Can we do that again?"

He smiled. "Yes, Dean. I would like that very much."

XxxX

A few days later found the three of them sitting in a booth in a diner somewhere just over the Kansas state border. It had taken longer than they had thought to find the grave, because there were a lot of graveyards, and then, when they found a Peter Monroe, they also found out that there were about four of them, a family name passed down. And Death hadn't mentioned _which_ Peter Monroe they needed to dig up. They started at the first and worked their way down. It ended up being under Peter Monroe III.

Dean had put the Colt in the trunk, in a box well hidden under a pile of ammunition and then covered with a blanket.

They were all a little achy, irritable, and ready to get home. When they'd finished their food, they went up to pay, but Cas said he needed to go to the bathroom, so Dean waved him off. He didn't bother telling Sam to go watch after him.

They paid then went outside to wait by the Impala.

Cas was taking a while, and Dean was starting to get a bad feeling. Just when he was about to go in and check, there was a voice on the other side of the car.

"Hello, Dean…Sam."

They both jumped and turned around. Dean glared, and since he knew Sam wouldn't recognize her, he muttered, "Ruth".

She walked around the car, Dean and Sam both slowly reaching behind to pull their guns out. "Not very polite, are we?"

"Where's Cas?" Sam barked.

She tutted in a really annoying way. "Now, you know I'm not going to tell you that. You'll have to come find him. But I would hurry if I were you. See, I've had a long time to think about what I would do if I ever got my hands on that monster. And I don't think he's going to enjoy it very much."

Dean was the first to shoot, quickly followed by Sam. Ruth put her hand up, and the bullets stopped inches from her, then they dropped.

She grinned at them. "You can't stop me. Castiel won't hold out forever, so I would leave now."

Ruth walked away the way she came, then went around the corner. Dean flung the door of the car open and jumped in, almost pulling out of the parking lot before Sam could completely get in his seat.

For a few minutes, all Dean could hear was static. _How_ could he have let Cas go on his own? One minute of letting their guard down was all it took, and they got him. He had to get to Lawrence as fast as he could.

Eventually, the white noise faded, and Dean could hear Sam yelling at him, telling him something. He shook his head and was able to concentrate some.

"Dean! Come on, man, pull over. Pull over now! This is what she wanted, we're going into a trap! We're gonna die before we even get to him, now pull over!"

Slowly, the logic settled in, and Dean found a gravel pull over spot.

"Thank you. We need to get back to the bunker, Dean."

"Why?" His voice sounded hollow, even to himself.

"We are vulnerable out here. The bunker is safe. We can plan from there, get some back up, call in some favors. We need to have an advantage."

Dean nodded and started the car back up. "Dean, you sure you're up for driving?"

He'd already pulled out onto the road, driving back the way they came. "Yeah. I'm fine, Sammy."

He'd never told more of a lie.


	5. Depression

Individual warnings for this chapter: Graphic violence, torture, depressed/anxious/morbid thoughts and actions, sexy times, mentions of animal cruelty, language.

Chapter Four: Depression

Three days later, and almost everything was ready.

Sam was pacing up and down part of the small dirt trail that Kevin had found when he scouted through here. It was at a perfect place so they could see right down through an overgrowth of trees and brambles into the area around the old slaughterhouse. He really, really didn't like that they'd chosen a slaughterhouse for their HQ.

Charlie, Kevin, and Garth were all also in a tense silence. This was going to be one hell of a rescue mission. And everyone had a right to be nervous. They could see about twenty people milling around the perimeter, expecting Sam and Dean to come busting in, doing something crazy. Well, it was crazy. And there were parts of this he didn't entirely agree with, but Dean had been insistent.

Sam had really been worried about Dean the last few days. He was upset too, Cas was his friend and had saved his life a lot of times. He'd do just about anything for the guy. But Dean was doing bad. Sam knew he didn't sleep, he'd hardly eaten anything, and one night Sam had almost knocked on his door to check on him, and he could hear his brother crying. Sam had wanted so badly to go in and tell Dean that it was going to be okay, they'd get Cas back safe and sound, but he knew Dean wouldn't appreciate that.

He heard footsteps coming through the woods to the left, and everyone drew a weapon, just in case.

But it was Dean, back as scheduled, with the last member of the raiding party. He was all smiles, like Sam remembered him, and he walked right over to Sam with his hand held out.

"Hey there, Brother. Good ta see ya again."

Sam shook his hand, even though he wasn't happy with this, the man _had_ saved his life.

"Hey, Benny."

Dean clapped him on the shoulder. "Benny, this is Charlie, Garth, and Kevin."

They all shook hands, except Benny took Charlie's hand and kissed it.

"All y'all Hunters, then?"

Charlie shook her head. "I'm just a part-timer."

"And Dean told y'all what I am. I hope my bein' here don't offend anybody."

Dean cut in, setting the case he was carrying next to a rock and setting stuff up.

"Everyone agreed with what they were getting into. We're on a mission here, people."

It was like some kind of switch had flipped, and what was once a tense silence was now vibrating. The troops were ready to go into action.

"You all know where you're going. You leave here and exactly ten minutes later I start firing this." Dean kept setting up the sniper rifle.

"I'll pick off as many as I can. More will come out when they hear the noise. You'll jump the fences and get in there, and I'll come down soon when it's too crowded to use this. Everyone ready to go?"

They all nodded. "Okay. Get going."

As Sam walked past, he patted his brother on the shoulder, and got a small grin in return. "Be safe man, okay?"

"Yeah, Dean, you too. See you soon."

Sam had been paired with Benny, and they made their way to the farthest side of the building. Charlie, Kevin, and Garth would take the other side. As soon as they got close enough to the fence, they settled down to wait for Dean's signal.

"Dean wouldn't tell me much. He was pretty quiet the whole way down here. All I know is we're here to save his angel."

"Cas isn't an angel anymore, Benny, that's one of the problems."

Benny chuckled. "Don't mean he innit still _Dean's_ angel."

Sam sighed. "So you know about that."

"Knew since I first seen the two of 'em together. I don't know the man well, and personally I think he's got too many bats in the belfry…"

Sam snorted at the comment. "…but if Dean did all he says he did to get me back up here, I'm willin' to get the fella out."

Sam started to explain. "All these people are angels who fell. They're wanting to punish Cas because they think he caused them all to fall."

"Did he?"

"No. He was being tricked, by someone we all thought we could trust. But they're beyond understanding, and their leader is a little bit crazy. There's nothing more dangerous than a crazy lady who's got nothing to lose."

"Dean mentioned that you two were somehow in danger, too."

Sam shook his head. "Kinda. Since we're friends with Cas, they think we must have helped him, or something. Or they think that by doing something with us it'll hurt Cas more, I dunno."

The mangels started running and yelling in surprise when shots started firing down on them. Almost immediately, more came running from inside the building, trying to find the threat and eliminate it.

"That'd be our cue, Sam."

They made a run for the fence and hopped over it. Everyone that had been on this side had ran over to the other, so no one saw them coming.

It was a full scale battle after that. The mangels weren't armed, clearly thinking that they wouldn't need to be, since they were superior to the two people they thought were coming. They didn't expect five people and a vampire.

They'd armed themselves with some guns, but most of the action was with swords. It'd been Dean's idea. If they could stop bullets, guns may not work on all of them. But it would take a lot more psychic power to stop a fully grown person with a sword. And it looked like he was right.

The mangels didn't seem to be made up of the soldiers that Cas had described. These must have been lesser trained angels, because they were going down easily. Almost too easily. Like cannon fodder. By the time Dean got over the fence, there were only a few left.

Then it was over. They met up near the doors, which hung open. They were all covered in blood. "Dean, did this seem a little too easy to you?"

"Easy? Dude, I almost got my head ripped off."

Dean just ignored Kevin. "Yeah, a little bit. About how many do you think we got?"

They went around and counted. "Sixty."

"Well, he said there were seventy five. Fifteen we don't know about, counting that Ruth bitch."

Dean looked through the doors. "Okay. Remember, Charlie and Kevin you stay here and wait. Thirty minutes. You know what to do?" They both nodded.

"We're going in."

It was almost pitch black except for where the light from the door leaked through. They went single file behind Benny since he was the only one who could see. The place had been closed up for so long, it still smelled like old rotting blood. Sam was starting to feel nauseous.

Benny stopped. "Ten people, Brother," he whispered. "Along the walls."

Dean nodded. "We'll go right. Sam, Garth, go left."

That was where it got hard. These were the trained mangels. The soldiers. They were lightning fast, and just about impossible to see until they were a couple of feet in front of you. And these were armed with knives. Sam had been cut about four times before he was able to finally stab one, then cut its head off while it was distracted. He could hear the others fighting.

Sam managed to get two more, and then he must have let his guard down because he got slammed on the floor, knocking the sword away. Before the mangel could stab him, though, he managed to pull out his gun and shoot it. He got back up and it was quiet, except for their heavy breathing. "Everyone okay?"

"Yeah," that was Garth and he sounded far away.

"Sammy?"

"Here, Dean."

"Benny, that was the last of them, right?"

"Yeah, I don't see any more here."

They regrouped and kept walking. There was an echoing scream suddenly, pretty far away. Sam could feel Dean clench up. "Dean. Up ahead aways, there's two standin' outside a door."

They walked very quietly, and they took out the guards quickly, since it was at least two on one this time.

"Alright. Garth, wait out here for the others."

There was another long, high scream. Dean's voice shook. "Don't come in. No matter what you hear, Garth. Just wait, okay?"

"Yeah, Dean. Be safe in there."

Dean pushed the door open.

xxXX

There was no way Dean could have possibly been prepared for what was on the other side of that door. He knew they'd be treating Cas rough, probably torturing him in some way, but he had not been expecting this.

As they walked through the door, Ruth turned away from where she had Cas shackled and chained and looked at them, a smile on her face.

"Ah. The honored guests. I knew you'd come eventually. I hope the others weren't too difficult to get through, but I needed you to at least have to try some to get here."

She set what looked like a spoon on the table near her. "Yoseph, you can heal him now."

Cas was panting hard, and it sounded like he was crying, but he couldn't have been. She had torn his eyes out. A tall, lanky guy walked over and touched Cas on the shoulder. He gasped and was blinking again, eyes intact but blood still running under them.

Ruth waved her hand and Dean, Sam, and Benny were all thrown against the wall and were held there. She walked over to them.

"These last few days have been fun, Dean. Perhaps you recognize it. I was never there personally, but I heard the stories. I tried to make it as best as I could."

There were chains linked somewhere else in the shadowy room, and Cas had cuffs on his wrists and ankles. He was held up to be on his knees, arms held mostly up. The only clothing they had left on him were his boxers, which were blood-soaked, and he was striped with dried blood all over his body, even his hair was caked with it. A pair of hooks dangled down from the ceiling, but they weren't in use.

"Hell."

Ruth grinned. "Yes, Dean. Castiel showed no mercy to my bondmate, made him suffer and tormented him. I am only doing justice. Just as Kerubiel suffered, so shall Castiel suffer."

Dean had to think. The longer he could stall this bitch, the more time until the last part of their plan fell into place.

"Look, lady, if it's justice you're after, shouldn't you be torturing me, and making him watch?"

She laughed. "Oh, dear, I have every intention. But not right now."

Ruth walked back to where Cas was and patted his back, making him moan in pain.

"Little known fact. When an angel takes a vessel, their wings become a physical part of their body. Even when a vessel has been left, two small bony protuberances are left behind. Now, when an angel's Grace is torn out of them and they fall, their wings burn. Very unpleasant sensation. However, when an angel's Grace is simply taken from them or if fades away from being cut off from Heaven, their wings remain. Without their Grace they aren't even aware of them and can't manifest them, and in time the wings fade and go away. But there are ways to make them show themselves, if they're still there."

She raised her hands and spoke a sentence in what was clearly Enochian.

Two large wings, obsidian black, burst out from behind Cas' shoulders and he gasped. He began to tentatively fold them back in, but Ruth motioned to Yoseph, and suddenly the two hooks made sense.

As the hooks bit through the flesh of the wings, Cas let out a horrible scream, animal like, so pained as Dean had never heard a noise like it, even in Hell. Ruth walked back in front of Cas.

"An angels' wings are the most vulnerable part of them," she said needlessly.

She reached out and rubbed a hand over the feathers, then grabbed a handful and yanked. Cas screamed again, but it was more muted. He coughed and Dean saw some blood come out. Ruth walked over and pulled Dean's jacket open and put the feathers in a pocket and zipped it shut. "A…Memento."

Ruth went back the small table and picked up a large knife.

"Castiel, dear, this may sting some."

Cas was screaming again. Dean glanced back. Sam had his eyes shut and his face turned away. Benny was staring down at the floor. He tried while Ruth was concentrating on something else, but he still couldn't move. He had to look back. He wasn't going to abandon Cas now, even by looking away.

He was hissing and groaning as Ruth was cutting on his back, around where the wings connected to his body. She handed the knife to Yoseph and braced one hand against Cas' back, and took a firm grip at the base of the left wing. And then she pulled.

Cas was screaming again and it was even worse than before. The wing was torn loose then tossed aside. Ruth did the same to the right one.

"Yoseph. Heal him, but make sure the scars remain."

Cas was slumped over as far as the chains would allow him, and he was shaking so hard the chains rattled loudly. Dean wanted so badly to go over to him, but he couldn't get loose of the psychic hold.

Dean couldn't see his watch, but he knew it had to be soon. _Please hurry. Please get here soon. Please let me get to Cas_.

Just then, the wind started up, and Dean huffed a huge sigh of relief. Ruth was looking around furiously. "What is happening? What are you doing?"

The door banged open, and the last piece of the rescue mission came in, followed by Charlie, Kevin, and Garth.

Crowley walked into the room just like he walked into every room, like he owned the damn thing. "Well, isn't this a lovely reunion?"

The psychic hold dropped, and Dean immediately ran to Cas. He was distantly aware of Crowley telling Ruth who he was, explaining that he was here because he owed some favors.

"Cas?"

Dean knelt down in front of him and cradled his face, making him look up. Cas was breathing, but it was ragged and harsh. He'd probably shredded his vocal chords. "Cas? You in there?"

He blinked his eyes open and he groaned. "I'm hallucinating."

"No, babe, it's me. Really me. We came to get you."

A tear ran down Cas' face. "No, no. Ruth, I won't fall for this again."

Sam walked up behind them and started unlocking the shackles at his feet, having gotten the keys off Ruth. "See? Sammy's here too. It's really us."

Cas focused a little. "Dean?"

"Yeah, babe, it's me."

"Dean, hold on to him, okay?" Sam was about to unlock his wrists.

He wrapped his arms around Cas, touching him as gently as possible. He still groaned in pain. Like Alistair had done, they had tortured then healed enough for him to still feel the pain, but he wouldn't lose too much blood or die. The pain would last for a long time, even though there were no injuries. Not visible ones, anyway.

Dean focused in on the conversation behind them. Ruth was shrieking.

"No! No, this is not how this was supposed to happen!"

"You involved the Winchesters, love. They derailed your Apocalypse, did you really believe you could hijack their closest friend and they wouldn't come up with a half decent rescue plan?"

"I have an army of hundreds! There is no way…"

Sam had Cas' arms freed, and Dean was trying to find the least painful way to pick him up. He marched over to where the others were.

"You're lying. We talked to Death, he gave us your location and your numbers. After you two, there's only one left."

Ruth wasn't saying anything, just gaping her mouth open and shut in obvious shock and staring at Sam. Crowley sighed. "Well, as always it has been a pleasure, boys. Ta. Now, you and your friend are coming with me."

Crowley snapped his fingers and he and the two mangels disappeared.

"Everything go okay?" Sam was talking with the others.

"Yeah, Kevin did the summoning when you told us to, and Crowley pointed out where we needed to take out the demon repelling Enochian marks."

Even though Dean had tried to be as careful as possible, Cas couldn't hold back a scream when he picked him up. "Sam? Come get the keys outta my pocket and bring the car around."

Sam came over, and glanced down at Cas. "Dean, is he gonna be okay?"

Dean looked up, and he could tell Sam had tears in his eyes. "Yeah, but we gotta get him home. I've got him."

Sam went out and the others except for Benny followed him. They could use lights to find their way out now.

"Brother, you need any help?"

Dean shook his head, still reeling with what he'd seen, and how relieved he was that Cas was still alive and breathing against his neck. "Just lead the way, man."

Dean followed close behind him all the way out. Cas blinked in the sunlight and he looked around blearily as much as he could without moving his head. Sam wasn't here yet, the cars had been parked pretty far away.

"Benny?"

Cas' voice was just hardly a whisper. "Yeah, it's me aw'right. Hadn't seen you in a long while."

"What are you doing here?"

Benny grinned and bounced on his feet. "Dean here apparently snuck inta Purgatory through Hell, escorted by the King himself, and dragged me back out. Said he needed a big favor."

Dean felt Cas shift his head, and he groaned doing it. "I thought we didn't deal with demons."

He had to hold back a completely inappropriate laugh, the kind that snuck up on you after something stressful.

"Crowley's only half demon, it doesn't count."

Cas sighed into his shirt. "It feels nice out here."

He sounded like he was falling asleep. The Impala pulled up and Sam pushed open the rusty old gate. "The others went on ahead. I told them we'd be right behind."

Dean got in the backseat, laying Cas out, and he cried out while he was being moved. Sam had put down a blanket across the seat, and then left another one folded on the floor that Dean threw over Cas, then put his head in his lap. Benny rode shotgun and Sam started on the road home.

He must have fallen asleep at some point but he couldn't remember when. He checked, and Cas was still sound asleep, his head tilted into Dean's hand. It was dark outside the car.

"Sam? Where are we?"

"Oh, hey. We're about an hour out. Kevin and Garth went on, someone tipped them off on what might be a Chupracabra. Charlie's gonna meet us back at the bunker."

Benny turned his head. "How's he doin'?"

"He's asleep. It's gonna take him a long time…"

Dean suddenly felt a lump form in his throat. There was no telling what sort of pain Cas had gone through those three days Ruth had him. There were scars on him that would never heal, just like the scars on Dean, and to some extent Sam. He probably hadn't eaten, or had been given any water or rest from being chained up. He moved the blanket slightly to see. His skin was paler than Dean remembered it, and there was a wide, raw circle around his wrist.

Something dripped on Cas' forehead, and Dean realized he was silently crying. He remembered he was supposed to be talking to Benny, but he had started up a conversation with Sam.

Dean started moving his thumb across Cas' cheek and he turned his head slightly more into his hand, sighing in his sleep.

Charlie was waiting for them, sitting on the front of her car doing something with her iPad. Benny carried her bag for her while Sam unlocked the bunker. Dean started trying to get Cas out of the car without waking him up. Sam came back a minute later.

"Let me help, Dean."

"I've got it."

"Look, I know you want to take care of him, but we've got to get him down those stairs down into the bunker, and that's not a one person job. Let me help. Please."

Dean huffed. "Yeah, okay."

They made sure to keep Cas in his cocoon of blankets, and between them they got him down the spiral staircase. Dean wasn't gonna admit it to Sam anytime soon, but he probably couldn't have gotten Cas down here without falling. They made their way to one of the bathrooms, the one they usually used. Charlie had found another one in the bunker to get cleaned up in.

They set Cas down on the lid of the toilet. Dean had to hold on to him to keep him from slumping off. Sam started the hot water in the sink and went to get clothes. Together, they managed to wash all the blood off of him. Cas woke up a couple of times, groaning in pain when they moved him a certain way, but then he just drifted back off. There was a moment of silent awkwardness when Dean helped Cas to stand while Sam pulled off the bloody boxers and cleaned him before putting fresh boxers and sweatpants on him, then warm socks after Dean set him back down.

It took longer to get all the caked blood out of Cas' hair, and then to get him shaved because there was blood stuck all in the almost four day beard Cas had growing. But then they had him in a faded Foreigner shirt and he looked almost normal.

"Should we try to get some food in him, or just let him sleep?"

Sam was looking less shaken, now that Cas didn't look like he had taken a dive into a pool of blood.

"Go heat up some chicken broth. I don't think they fed him, and he needs something in him. I'll see if he'll wake up."

"Alright Dean."

Dean crouched down in front of Cas, hands on his shoulders keeping him in place.

"Cas? Babe, do you hear me?"

Cas hummed a little. "Open your eyes for me. Can you do that?"

One eye cracked open. "Dean?"

His voice was barely a whisper, and it came out like a croak.

"Hey. Yeah. Me and Sam got you all cleaned up. You're home, babe. I'm gonna take you up to the kitchen. Do you think you can eat some soup?"

Cas opened his eyes more and he was glancing around. "I'll try."

Dean managed to smile. "Gonna pick you up again."

When Dean got to the kitchen, there was a bowl of lightly steaming broth and a glass of water at the table, and Charlie and Benny were talking.

"Where'd Sam go?"

"Went to take a shower. Cas looks a world better."

He grunted as he sat Cas in the chair. Sam had put a spoon and a straw next to the bowl and a straw in the water, bless him.

"Here, Cas. Go slow, don't wanna burn anything."

Cas had closed his eyes again, but sucked on the straw. He hummed at the broth, Dean guessed he was enjoying it. They switched between water and broth until Sam came back.

"Dean, go get cleaned up."

"Sammy, I'm…"

"Not doing anything I can't. Go. Shower. You reek."

Benny nodded. "It's true, Dean. Get goin' before I start lickin' on ya."

Dean huffed but left anyway. He took a quick shower, and made sure all the blood was off him, then changed into clean clothes.

By the time he got back to the kitchen, Cas had finished the water and about half of the broth.

"Dean, I think he's done."

Cas' head was leaning to the side and he was mostly asleep again.

"Yeah, okay. Let's get him in his bed."

Dean got Cas settled, making sure he was all covered and was propped up some on his pillows. "Cas?"

He cracked an eye open, looking bleary again.

"Hey Cas. You're in bed, okay? Charlie snooped around and got your stuff back."

Dean pressed his phone into his hand. "If you need anything, just call me or Sam. You don't have to say anything, we'll come."

Cas nodded and Dean sighed. "Goodnight, babe."

In his wrecked voice, Cas managed to croak out, "Mon ange."

Dean turned the lights out, and let him sleep.

XxXx

Cas drifted in and out. He wasn't sure how long it was since Dean tucked him into his bed that he fully regained consciousness, but he managed to turn his head enough to look at the clock, and the numbers were lit up from the light out in the hallway coming through the open door. They must have left it open in case he needed anything. It was just after three in the morning.

He didn't know what had made him wake up fully for a minute, but then he heard the noises coming from next door. Cas couldn't hear any clear words, but Dean sounded like he was in distress, and Sam was speaking in calming tones.

He wanted to know what was happening. Why was Dean upset? He wanted to go to him. Cas was barely able to grip the covers enough to move them, and when he tried to lift them up, it felt like he was trying to push a tree off of him. That was enough to make Cas out of breath and a little nauseous.

But then he heard the door click shut. "Sam?"

It came out sounding horrible, and his throat felt like it was on fire. He tried a little louder. "Sam?"

He had obviously been in bed, because most of his hair on one side was sticking up, and he was blinking drowsily. "Cas? You okay?"

"Yeah." It was too hard to speak. "Dean?"

Sam looked confused for a second then came into the room some more. "He's okay. Just a nightmare."

He felt guilty, and it must have shown on his face. "Hey, not your fault. He'll be fine, don't worry. Go back to sleep, alright?"

It looked like Sam was about to fall asleep himself standing there, and Cas nodded. Sam left and turned off the hall light and soon he heard another door shut.

Cas continued drifting in and out. He never felt like he slept for a long while, but he heard movement out in the bunker sooner than he thought he would, but he was out again before he knew what it was.

"Cas?"

He was able to open his eyes and focus. It was Dean, and he had a tray in his hands that he sat on the desk.

"Hey. How are you feeling?"

Cas tried to answer, but his throat was uncooperative. Dean brought some water over from the tray. "Here, this might help."

"Thank you." He still sounded horrible. "I've felt better."

Dean fiddled with the glass in his hand, looking uncomfortable. "Yeah."

Why was this awkward all of a sudden?

"Do you…uhm, do you think you can sit up to eat?"

Moving was no easier than it had been during the night, so Dean helped him sit up in the bed, propped up by pillows, and put the tray on his lap. "Okay, can you do this part?"

It was a bowl of oatmeal and coffee and orange juice. Cas was relieved to find that he was able to lift the spoon to feed himself and the cups were not very heavy. Dean sat in the desk chair, watching him eat, but not speaking.

Cas tried to speak again. "Are you okay?"

Dean looked up at him, obviously confused. "I'm fine. Why?"

Cas thought about the way to put things without using too many words but still get his point across. "Nightmare last night. Now acting weird."

He took a long sip off the juice. "I'm not acting weird."

Cas just nodded. Dean huffed and stood up, starting to pace. "Look…It's been a rough few days. I'm still…"

Dean gripped at his hair, clearly agitated. He wasn't good at this, and Cas couldn't help him much, even when everything was normal.

"Later."

Dean sighed and sat back down. "Okay, yeah. Thank you."

Cas kept eating, wanting to try and get the whole bowl down. He suddenly felt starved.

"Sam went to town. He said he would pick up some spray. It tastes like shit, but it numbs your throat and it might make it easier for you."

Cas nodded.

"I need to ask. Is anything wrong? Like, does anything feel broken still or…Do you think you need to go to the hospital?"

Cas froze. He'd been keeping everything in the back of his mind as best he could. Of _course_ things still felt broken, that was the point. He could still feel where there had been cracks in every bone in his body. Where nails had been hammered into him, where skin had been torn away, where he had been scalped. He could still feel the joy of having his wings again only to have them ripped from his body.

He knew what Dean meant. He did. He knew that he was only asking if he needed medical attention. But some human response took over his mind, and he saw red. It could have only been for a moment, but when Cas blinked and everything seemed normal, he realized the tray wasn't on his lap anymore. Somehow, it and its' contents were lying in the middle of the floor, glass and liquids everywhere.

Dean was gone.

Cas was still trying to figure out what happened when Dean came back with a broom and some towels. He couldn't read his expression, but he didn't seem angry. Dean just set about cleaning up the mess. Cas looked down and realized his hands were shaking.

"Dean…"

He had just straightened up from the floor. "I'll be back in a minute."

Cas watched his hands shaking until they became blurry, and he realized tears were in his eyes. He tried to lift a hand to wipe them away, but he couldn't.

A weight settled down beside him on the bed, and a soft fabric cleaned the tears away. Cas had closed his eyes, but he knew it was Dean. Soon, hands slipped into his so they didn't shake.

"It's okay, babe."

Cas let out a breath he had been holding and opened his eyes again. He pulled one of his hands from Dean and pointed at his desk, where there was a notepad. Dean went and picked it up. "This?"

He nodded. "You want a pen, too?"

Another nod. Dean sat back near his knees as Cas tried to write down what he had to say. His hands were shaking again by the time he was done and he handed it back to Dean.

'Dean,

I am sorry for my outburst. I don't even remember doing it and I don't know why I did it. I was trying to hold back those memories, and I suppose they were dragged up. I should not have thrown anything, though.

I am in pain, but I don't need to go to the hospital. That throat spray sounds good, and maybe you could bring me some Tylenol if it's not any trouble.'

He had drawn a heart at the end, and then thought of something else.

'And some more coffee.'

Dean chuckled as he read through his note, then leaned over and kissed his forehead. "Coming right up."

He sat back down on the bed after he handed the two pills and the coffee to Cas.

"You might've had a flashback."

Cas looked at him questioningly and he shrugged. "That's what it looked like. You got all glazed over then…well, you know. It happens."

Dean knocked his foot against the floor. "Yeah, Sammy told me you heard me last night. It's been a while since I'd had one, so I guess it freaked me out more than usual."

Cas was able to reach and pat Dean's knee, the most comforting he could be right now. He was finding that the longer he was awake, the more he could move. Dean covered Cas' hand with his own.

"I shouldn't've let you go on your own, Cas. I'm so sorry."

To Cas' dismay, it was Dean who was crying now. He set the mostly empty mug on the table beside his bed, and tried to scoot closer. After a minute or two, even though it had him panting and the room was spinning some, he had managed to get where he could put one arm around Dean's shoulders, and get him to lean so his head was on Cas' shoulder.

Dean cried for a while. Cas should have known Dean would blame himself, but there was nothing he could have done to stop it. All Cas could do to help Dean was rub circles against his arm and try to get better as fast as he could so he could prove that no lasting harm had been done.

He sat up eventually, eyes red and made even redder when he scrubbed under them with the sleeve of his shirt. Dean sniffled.

"Sorry…sorry."

Cas was starting to feel a little overexerted, but he made himself move his arm so he could put his hand over Dean's mouth.

"Quit that."

He let his arm drop. Dean seemed to realize how tired he was and helped Cas get back lying against the pillows. He could feel he was starting to drift off again, and Dean started to stand up, but Cas reached out and touched his hand.

"Stay please?"

Dean chuckled lightly, and even though he probably knew Cas had meant to stay until he fell asleep, he kicked off his shoes and lay down over top of the covers, grabbing Cas' hand and locking their fingers together.

"I'm not gonna leave."

XxxX

Over the next few days, Dean noticed that Cas was becoming more and more frustrated with what he once called 'idiotic human weakness'. Of course, he ignored that he could talk again, not for too long without numbing his throat, but it was getting better. He was able to wobble down the hall to the bathroom, and that that was as far as he could go for now, but he got stronger every day. He was fully conscious now, and slept like he normally would. His eating was back to normal.

But for some reason that probably only made sense to him, he didn't like that he wasn't already back to one hundred per cent. Dean caught him and helped him back to his room when Cas had tried walking to the kitchen to get something to drink and almost passed out in the library.

"Cas. You were chained up for days. Your muscles are gonna need a while until you're up for running around, and the more you push yourself, the worse you're gonna make it."

Cas had just slumped down in his arm chair and curled up looking miserable.

Dean sighed and knelt in front of him. "I know you don't like feeling useless. Just be patient, babe. Another week or so and you'll be fine again. Just…Please, be careful."

He had reached out to touch Cas on the knee, but he drew back with a miserable whimper. Dean made sure the hurt at that didn't reach his face. Cas had been flip-flopping a lot like this. He wanted Dean to be near him, then he didn't. It was the same with everyone else. Cas had enjoyed a long conversation with Charlie about 'The Hobbit', then drew away when she approached him again. Sam and Benny were no different.

"Okay. Well, do you still want that drink?"

He didn't respond, wouldn't even look at Dean, but he went and got it anyway, before leaving Cas on his own.

"How's he doing?" Sam paused what he was watching, another boring documentary about something boring that he had picked up. Charlie and Benny had run into town, taking Charlie's car, because no way that woman was getting near the wheel of his Baby.

"The same."

"Sorry, Dean."

He sank down next to Sam on the couch. "I just don't know what to do, man. He's so touch and go. I can't…There's nothing I can do to help him."

"I think he'll be okay. He has a lot to deal with, and it might be something he has to figure out on his own."

He just huffed. He was quiet long enough Sam unpaused his documentary and Dean sat there not really listening or watching. Something stupid about ducks.

Benny and Charlie came back not long after that. Benny had taken over a lot of the cooking, once he realized most of them had not really experienced what he said was 'food the way it was meant to be made'. Which really just consisted of a lot of seafood, and Benny bitching about where they were.

"Geographical center of the country. You know what that means, Brother? It means we are the most unlucky sonsabitches. This is the _exact_ place where you are the farthest from decent salt water that is possible. You couldn'ta inherited a fortress on the Delta?"

But he made due, and they had all kinds of 'proper food'. One morning they'd even had chicken and waffles, something Dean had never had, and didn't realize how he had been living before.

There was shuffling and Dean turned to see Cas pulling himself into the room, using the doorway and the walls as support.

"Cas, we just talked about this…"

But when Dean had stood up and got a close enough look at him, a single tear had fallen down his face. "Hey, what's…"

"I'd like to sit in here, where there is company," Cas' voice was weak, and Dean reached up and wiped the tear away. He glanced over, and Sam was staring at the TV.

"Okay. Yeah, come on."

Sam automatically moved to an armchair, and Cas and Dean got on the love seat. Cas didn't sit as close as he maybe normally would, but he reached over and grabbed Dean's hand.

Dean sighed and squeezed back, taking whatever he could, while he could.

By the time Sam's weird duck thing was over, Benny hollered that it was supper time. It was some kind of jambalaya, and it smelled awesome.

Even though he protested and tried to weakly push him away at first, Dean helped Cas get up to the kitchen by putting his arm around his waist and making Cas throw an arm over his shoulders. He was panting and holding onto Dean for dear life by the time they made it up the steps, but Dean wasn't going to say I told you so.

XXxx

Cas didn't know what was wrong with himself.

He suspected it was another contradictory human reaction, such as being afraid and acting angry instead. All he knew for certain was that he disliked it.

Now that he was actually sleeping instead of drifting in and out all the time, he was plagued by nightmares again. He tried the technique that Dean had taught him Florida that had worked since, but these were persistent, and he often woke up sweating, but freezing cold. The nightmares tended to follow a pattern. He always caused harm one of his friends in some way or another, directly or indirectly. In one, he had been forced to watch as Dean was tortured by Ruth in his place. In another, the rescue attempt had gone wrong and everyone was captured and then killed in front of him. Some were scenarios that hadn't happened, hunts they hadn't been on and something horrible happened to Sam or Dean or both. And then there was the resurgence of the old dreams, Naomi's office and her drill…A warehouse full of dead Deans.

While in his awake hours, he seemed to occasionally flashback to his nightmares and he no longer wanted to face his friends, feeling fear that what he had seen might come to pass. He knew it bothered them, especially Dean, but he didn't know how to explain.

One night, Cas woke up, mid-nightmare about the Impala being pushed off a cliff while Dean and Sam were still in it. He sat in his bed, wondering what had woke him, when he heard a pained noise next door from Dean's room. He shakily got out of his bed and went down the hall.

Cas knocked, but pushed the door open, closing it behind him and he made his way to the desk in the room and turned on the lamp. Dean was shaking in the bed, tossing his head back and forth, and making pained noises. Cas could make out words like 'no' and 'please' every so often. He sat down on the edge of the bed. "Dean?"

There was no response. "Dean? You're okay. Wake up." He gently put his hands on Dean's shoulders and shook him lightly.

"Dean? Wake up, please."

His eyes flew open and he sat up with a jerk. "Cas?"

"You were having a nightmare."

Dean rubbed his eyes and groaned. "God. I'm sorry I woke you up, babe. Go…go back to bed, I'll be fine."

Cas shook his head. He wanted to stay here. "I was having a nightmare, too."

Dean looked at him. "You've been having nightmares?"

"A lot. Every night."

He sighed and scooted up so he was sitting in his bed a little straighter. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"They're disturbing."

"_All _nightmares are disturbing, Cas."

"They are about you. And Sam. Sometimes Kevin, or Charlie, or Benny, or Garth."

Dean rubbed one of his eyes again with the heel of his hand. "Is that why you've been acting weird? That and you're upset about not healing fast enough."

Cas shrugged. "I suppose."

Dean leaned forward and took both of Cas' hands. "It'll be okay. Nightmares get better."

"You're still having them." Cas didn't mean the words to sound accusing, but they came out that way. Dean clutched at his hands tighter.

"Yeah. Well. You don't watch someone you love get tortured without a little damage afterwards."

And Cas had no idea how to respond to that. Dean loved him? Was he required to say it back now? Even though he wasn't sure?

"I'm sorry…"

Dean leaned forward and kissed him. It was the first time they had properly kissed each other since before Cas had been kidnapped. He had almost forgotten how incredible it felt. He had intentions of deepening it, but Dean pulled away.

"Don't apologize. None of this is your fault, babe. The nightmares will stop. Just takes a while."

He squeezed Cas' hands again. "Wanna sleep in here?"

Cas' mind had been in a light fog since Dean had broken the kiss. _That_ was what he wanted. So he leaned forward.

Dean made a surprised noise, but he wasn't pulling away or stopping. This was the closest thing to 'good' Cas had felt since coming back to the bunker. After a couple minutes, they had to break apart. Cas had since separated their hands and he was cupping Dean's face. They remained close, breathing heavily into each other's spaces. Dean must have been able to read something in his face.

"Cas, you sure you wanna do this?"

He had no idea what 'this' was, but, yes, he needed to be close to Dean. It was the only thing that helped him.

"I need you, Dean."

Dean groaned and flopped back down, pulling Cas with him, and he latched on Cas' neck. "Cas. You're sure?"

It tickled where Dean breathed on the places on his neck he had made wet. "I trust you to stop if I tell you I am uncomfortable, Dean. I need to be with you in some way."

"God, Cas, I want that, too."

Dean pushed the covers back and pulled them so Cas was pressed against him. He reached up and touched Cas' face, before he reached down and grabbed his hips, pulling him down.

Cas hummed softly, feeling a weird, numb tingling through his body. He leaned down and kissed Dean again. Dean was reaching down, and slipped his hands under the band of his sweatpants, squeezing the flesh he found there.

Cas was at a loss. What was he supposed to do next? Dean chuckled. "Sit up, babe."

Dean stripped his own shirt off, then reached over to do the same for Cas. Moving that way still made his shoulders twinge, but he made sure not to show Dean. He pulled them back down and then rolled them over. Cas felt a little relieved. Yes, Dean should be in control right now, he knew more about this than he did.

And boy did he. Dean must have been holding back before, because suddenly everything felt different. The kissing was more intense, where ever Dean touched him it felt like he was leaving trails of fire. The new sensations were almost too much, but Cas didn't mind.

His body was acting seemingly on its own accord. Hands running up and down Dean's back, lips attaching to his collarbone and over to his shoulders. He was clearly aware of the light moaning noises Dean made, but he couldn't tell if he was making any noises of his own.

Dean pulled back slightly. "Hey, lift your hips up."

Cas did as he asked, and Dean pulled his pants down off his hips, and he sat up to pull them the rest of the way off, then shoved his own off his legs. Cas took a moment to admire.

Of course, he had seen Dean naked many times. But this was different. Dean was sporting a half-hard erection, and Cas was the cause of that. It was a new feeling, almost one of pride. Cas grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him back down. They both moaned loudly, their dicks touching each other, and Cas lifted up, trying, wanting to get closer.

They had a rhythm started up. Dean with his hands holding Cas by the hips and the backs of his thighs, panting into his hair and his ear, kissing in between moans. Cas wrapped his arms around Dean's shoulders, holding on because it felt like he was going to float away, and burying his face in Dean's neck.

"Cas…Babe…I'm gettin' close…"

Cas just nodded, the only thing he could do right now. He was unable to tell how close he was to his own orgasm.

Dean came first, a long heavy moan and a feeling of warm stickiness between them. He all but collapsed on Cas, but he reached down and took hold of him in his hand. Cas shuddered. It was a whole different sensation, and as Dean rubbed him up and down, his cock already wet from where Dean had came moments before, it didn't take Cas very long to reach his own climax.

Dean settled along next to him as Cas came down. He knew he should be basking in a wondrous afterglow, like Dean was doing, but something horribly human was happening again. Cas could feel tears falling, and soon he was shaking.

"Cas?" Dean had shoved himself so he was leaning over him. "Babe? What's wrong?"

"I…I don't know!" Cas was barely able to choke the words out through his tears. Dean just lay there and looked dumbfounded.

"What…You said you were okay with this!"

"I was!" The crying was getting worse and he had no idea what was causing it. He'd been fine. Dean flopped away and got off the bed, pulling on the first pair of sweatpants he came across.

"Wh…What are you doing?"

Cas was still choking around his words, and he could feel his face turning red out of embarrassment. This was not how _this_ was supposed to go.

"Look, I just…I need a minute and clearly so do you."

"Don…Don't leave, pl…please!" But the door had already shut behind him and Cas buried his head into the pillow and started truly sobbing, completely ignoring the uncomfortable now cold stickiness on his skin and the muscles that were starting to protest being used so much. It felt like he lay there for hours, and eventually he fell asleep still crying.

He woke up to a hand running through his hair and he jerked up. It was Dean, and he had a sad look on his face. "How long…"

"It's only been about thirty minutes. I'm sorry I left. I just couldn't understand, but I think I do now."

Dean held a damp wash cloth, and pulled the covers back and cleaned the dried fluids off of him, then handed him his shirt and sweatpants. "Let's go back to your room."

Cas had to lean on him for support to walk the short distance next door and then get settled in his bed. Dean slid in next to him and held him close. Cas felt like he was in some sort of shock, a numb feeling in his head. He had gone from feeling so amazing to feeling awful in such a short amount of time it felt like some sort of whiplash.

"Okay. So, we've both had sex before. But you've never had sex as a human. I know you thought you were a human when you were with that Daphne chick, but you weren't really. So you never really had that hormone rush before. When people sleep with each other, especially if it's with someone they, uhm…really like, there's all this hormonal shit that happens. And yeah, it's intense at first. So…I guess, your body just went hormone crazy? That, or it was the worst sex ever and you're being too polite to tell me."

There was a silence, and Cas realized he was supposed to respond. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to ruin our time together. It was perfect, Dean."

Dean held him closer. "Hey, you didn't ruin anything. First times with people are always gonna be awkward one way or another. But, hey, at least we both liked it, right?"

Cas huffed. "I think we liked it very much."

He moved his head and kissed Cas gently. "Good."

They lay in a long silence and Cas was about to nod off again. "Babe?"

"Hmm?"

"I, uh, I meant what I said before. I do love you. You don't have to say it back or…or anything. But I wanted you to know."

Cas snuggled closer and kissed him. "I do know, mon ange."

"What does that mean?"

He smiled. "You were supposed to look it up."

"How can I look it up? I can't spell it."

"How do you think it's spelled?"

"Em, oh, en, ay, en, jay."

Cas laughed, and it was the first time he could remember laughing in a long while. "Close enough."

Dean sighed. "I can't look it up on 'close enough'."

He yawned. "You'll figure it out."

"Or you could tell me."

"_Goodnight_ Dean."

"'Night, Cas."

xxXX

When Dean woke up, Cas was gone but the bed was still mostly warm, so he figured he'd gone to the bathroom. He stretched and got out of the bed and opened the door to go to his room and grab clean clothes for a shower. Out in the hallway, Sam was carrying a bunch of his stuff under his arm.

"Sammy? What are you doing?"

He huffed. "Moving to another part of the bunker."

"Why?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "Because you're loud."

The bathroom door opened and Cas stuck his head out, toothbrush in hand, to see what was going on. "And you are louder."

Sam hauled off his stuff and Cas looked at Dean who was trying not to laugh because he knew Cas would be mortified once he figured it out.

"What was he talking about, Dean?"

Unfortunately, Sam hadn't got out of hearing range. "I'm talking about your noisy man-sex!"

Cas slapped his hand over his mouth and his eyes went wide. Dean couldn't hold back laughing anymore. He raised his voice. "Don't worry, Cas, he's just being a bitch because he isn't getting any!"

"Stop being so juvenile!"

"Not 'til you stop being a girl!"

Sam grumbled something and went on to his new room. Cas had turned red and looked like he wanted to shrivel up and die.

"Hey, it's alright."

Cas looked at him guiltily. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. Sam is just gonna whine a while then he'll shut up. He's been telling me for a while he's happy we're together. And we weren't _that_ loud. Just ignore him."

"Uhm. Okay." He ducked back in the bathroom and Dean heard the sink running. He got some clothes and crossed the hall. Cas was still there, finishing his teeth. Dean grinned. "Hey. Go get what you want to wear for the day."

Cas spit in the sink and looked at him curiously. "Okay. Why?"

"Thought it might be nice…We could conserve water and just take a shower together."

He blushed and looked over at the shower stall. "That sounds…fine."

Cas left and Dean went on ahead and started the shower and got in. It wasn't long before he heard movement, and then the door slid back and Cas stepped in.

"Is the water okay?"

Cas just nodded and shivered a little. "Hey, you comfortable with this?"

Cas smiled slightly. "Yes. I just have a feeling we're only doing this to bother Sam."

Dean shrugged and pulled Cas closer so he was under the water more. "Not 'only'."

He reached and grabbed the coconut shampoo he knew Cas used and squirted some in his hand. "Here."

Cas closed his eyes as Dean washed his hair, his lips parting slightly and water catching on his eyelashes and the dip of his collarbone. Dean kept Cas' head tipped back so the shampoo kept rinsing out, but he leaned down, kissing him across his chest, down to his ribs, and across his abdomen. He and Dean weren't built like Sam, all chisley, but where Dean had a slight stubborn pudge around his middle that would never go away, Cas was flat and tight.

"Dean? What are you doing?"

Cas' voice was shaking. Dean looked up. All the shampoo had rinsed out and Cas was looking down at him like he was watching some priceless thing. Dean grinned. "You still trust me?"

"Always." It was a quick answer, one Cas obviously didn't need to think about. Dean quit bending and just got down, the textured bottom of the shower biting into his knees. He moved forward so he could kiss along Cas' hipbones, nosing into the patch of hair just below his belly button.

Cas sighed and leaned back against the wall of the shower, needing the support. Dean grinned against his skin. "You want me to stop?"

"No." Another quick answer. Cas was starting to grow hard and Dean kissed along his shaft. He moaned at that and reached down, not gripping or pulling at Dean's hair, but just running his fingers through it. Maybe it was the acoustics of the bathroom, but Cas _was_ loud.

Dean hadn't done this before, but he'd had enough blow jobs that he figured he could make due. No one was complaining yet, anyway. He kept sucking kisses along Cas' dick and pumped him in his hand, twisting his wrist every so often until Cas was flushed and hard. Dean glanced up, blinking water out of his eyes. He had his head tilted back against the wall, eyes closed and he was panting already.

"Hey? You with me?"

Cas glanced down and smiled. "Yeah, Dean."

He carded his other hand through Dean's hair, and Dean leaned forward again. He kept a hand at the base, and took enough of his cock in his mouth as he could. It was weird, totally weird, not like doing this with a girl at all. But he liked it. The heaviness in his mouth, the salty tangy taste, and he knew he was loving it just because it was all _Cas_.

Dean started sucking and moving his mouth up and down experimentally, making sure to not gag himself, because dry-heaving was about as unsexy as it got. Cas was moaning and panting, his voice wrecking itself again. "Oh…Dean…"

Dean hummed and Cas moaned a little louder. He was sucking and pulling with earnest now, and twisting his wrist around the base.

Hands tightened in his hair. "Guh…I think…"

Dean got the point but he sucked harder and Cas came in his mouth, moaning loudly and slumping against the wall. Never one to go halfway, Dean swallowed everything he could, some dripping out of the corners of his mouth. He stood back up, his knees hurting a little.

"So, what did you…umph…"

Cas had grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him in for a sloppy kiss, his tongue going as deep into Dean's mouth as it could. Dean chuckled. Looked like he had a kinky little angel on his hands now that he'd got him going.

Cas pulled away, barely supporting his own weight. "You…", he was out of breath. "You are the proof of God's existence."

Dean laughed and pulled him so he was helping him stand some. "I think that's the best complement I have ever gotten after going down on someone."

After Cas had gotten a little bit of strength back, they continued with the actual showering part of the shower. Cas washed Dean's hair for him, and they lathered each other with soap.

Dean, of course, was hard as a rock still and when Cas brought his soapy hand down on Dean, well he couldn't hold back a groan. He was gonna take care of it himself, not wanting to over exert Cas, but he seemed insistent.

Cas was eager to learn the back and forth motion of his hand and how it drove Dean crazy. He didn't last long, just the fact that it was Cas and it was Cas' hand on him was almost enough.

Their shower had lasted a lot longer probably than if they had taken separate ones, but neither of them were complaining. After the water was off and they were towel drying, Cas seemed off.

"Babe, you okay?"

He nodded but it was shaky. "I guess I'm a little tired." As he said that his knees almost folded. Dean caught him and set him on the toilet lid after throwing a towel over it.

"We over did it, huh?"

Cas shook his head. "It's fine. Just give me a few minutes."

Dean got dressed then he started helping Cas. He seemed to have steadied himself and was able to finish dressing himself when Sam banged on the door.

"_Not_ cool, guys! Breakfast is ready and I hope you both choke on it!"

Dean laughed as he stormed off. Cas had turned red again. "Dean, we can't go out there now!" He sounded slightly hysterical.

"Why not?"

"They're all going to be thinking about…" Cas waved his hand at the shower.

Dean laughed again. "Actually, I think they're gonna be doing all they can to _not_ think about it."

Cas still looked mortified. "Okay. I'll go out first and make sure everyone's cool, and you come out in about five minutes. How's that?"

He just nodded and went back to pulling on his shoes.

Dean headed into the kitchen, where everyone was already sitting around the table and passing plates around. He leaned up against the back of his chair.

"Okay, guys. I know you probably got a ass-load of jokes you wanna use, but Cas is freaking out enough as is, so keep them to yourselves."

Benny held his hands up. "I don't know nothin' 'bout nothin', Brother."

Sam just shook his head and rolled his eyes, but went on eating. Charlie already had her mouthful of food and it looked like she wasn't paying Dean a damn bit of attention.

"Alright, then."

He sat down and started filling up his own plate. Benny had done the chicken and waffles again.

Cas eventually came into the room, approaching the table like it was infested with harpies or something.

But everyone acted like normal, and as the day went on Cas was less and less worried that someone was going to say anything.

xxXX

After a couple more weeks, Charlie and Benny had decided to say their goodbyes. Charlie had work to get back to, and since her way home was going to take her through Louisiana, she had offered to give Benny a ride.

Benny told Dean he was thinking of settling in New Orleans, maybe find another restaurant to work in, or even get on a shrimping boat. And in a bigger city, there would be more blood banks to 'borrow' from.

"Who knows, Brother? City like that, maybe I'll feel more at home."

Charlie had been appalled to find out that they didn't have a single gaming system in the bunker, and had immediately ran out to her car to grab a spare PS2 and a hoard of games that she said she'd been planning on selling anyway.

Cas had gone through another change, only a couple of days after the 'Shower Incident'. Now, he was pretty much apathetic about everything. Dean had offered to go out to the garden with him, to take him into town, to do just about anything. But all he seemed to want to do was sit or lay in his room or stare blankly at the TV. Dean had tried getting into the bed with him, or lay with him on the loveseat, but Cas had shooed him away every time. He had _no_ idea what was wrong.

After Charlie brought the games in, suddenly that was all he was interested in. He played hours upon hours of games, until he was half-asleep in front of the screen. Dean practically had to tear him away for things like meals.

And that's what Cas was doing while Dean was helping Benny and Charlie load up her car. Charlie was checking one of her bags for something, and Dean pulled Benny to the side.

"Look, man, I know how things happened last time…"

Benny just chuckled and looked up at the sky. It was overcast, so he wasn't having any problems with the sun. "I think this is gonna be different. Things just kinda went south, you know?"

"Yeah. But if you're thinking about goin' back…"

"Then I know where to find you, Brother."

Dean chuckled. "Okay. Good."

"And you call on me if you get in another pickle, alright?"

"Yeah. And you too."

Benny reached out and grabbed him in a big bear hug. Dean heard the bunker door open, and knew it was Sam and Cas. As Benny let go of him, Dean had an idea.

"Hey, you know some French, right?"

"Little bit."

Dean had a feeling he was going to be laughed at. "What's 'mon ange' mean?"

Sure enough, Benny started chuckling. "Why you asking?"

"Just tell me," Dean huffed. Sam and Cas were almost up to the cars.

"Means 'my angel'. Not that hard to figure out, Brother."

Benny was still laughing as he shook Sam's hand and Charlie came over with the book she'd been looking for.

"Here, Cas. I was telling you about this the other day. I have another copy at home."

Charlie pushed a ratty paperback into his hands. Dean remembered the conversation, if it could be called that. She had talked at Cas, something about the game he was playing, and role-playing, and Dungeons & Dragons. There was a book series around one of her favorite characters, Drizzle or something.

Cas looked at the cover blankly. "Thanks."

Charlie smiled at Dean, almost sadly. "Well, Fearless Leader, I suppose this is goodbye again."

He almost flinched at the wording but managed to smile back as she gave him a hug too. "He'll get better. Give it some more time," she whispered in his ear before pulling away.

Dean nodded. "Yeah. Thanks, Charlie."

She gripped his shoulders and looked at him very seriously. "I love you."

He had to roll his eyes. "I know."

Charlie went to say bye to Sam, and Benny was shaking Cas' hand.

"You take care, okay?"

Cas just nodded. "You, too."

Charlie was getting in her car. "Alright. Time to hit the road!"

Benny went over to his side. "Stay safe, Brothers!"

The three of them stayed outside, Sam and Dean waving until the car was out of sight, and their friends were gone.

XxxX

"Do you think Cas is up to going on a case?"

Dean paused stirring and turned to where Sam was at the dining room table on his laptop. Benny had left Dean some recipes and over the past couple of days he'd been trying some of them out. "Huh?"

"Listen. Erwin, Tennessee. Over the last two weeks, there have been ten incidences of extreme property damage. Small trees have been knocked over, siding and gutters torn off houses, smashed windows. Cars have been found with huge dents in them. At one of the homes, the owner had security cameras up, and the video went to static right around the time the damage was done."

"Sounds like a ghost," Dean turned back to the stew.

"Yeah. You think we should go?"

Dean stared into the pot that was bubbling, and it looked absolutely nothing like it did when Benny had made it.

"We'll leave in the morning."

A couple of hours later, Dean had a small bag with a sketch pad, a pencil box with all kinds of drawing stuff, a transistor radio he had found and fixed up in the bunker, and a couple of sandwiches. He set it next to the front door then went into the T.V room. Cas was slouched in one of the armchairs, his eyes glazed over and the screen being the only light in the room washed his face out and he looked pasty. He was also wearing a sweatshirt of Sam's that was about five times too big for him and it made him look like someone who hadn't eaten in months.

Dean snatched the controller out of his hands and turned the console off. Cas just blinked up at him hazily, didn't even get mad or anything.

"Come on, we're going outside."

"Why?" There was almost no emotion in his voice.

Dean shook his head and sighed. He hated seeing Cas like this. "We need to talk about a few things."

He blinked at him again. "You're breaking it off with me. Aren't you?"

Dean felt like the floor had just vanished. "What? _No_! Why would you even think that?"

Cas just shrugged. Dean sighed again and pulled Cas up. "Come outside with me. Please."

He followed Dean, who picked his bag up off the floor on their way out. He'd thought about going out to the garden, but Cas was pretty pitiful looking so Dean helped him up and they settled on the hood of the Impala. He set the pad and pencil box in Cas's lap, and turned the radio onto a classics station and set in on the hood behind them. Cas looked down at the items, like he didn't know what to do with them.

"I think we both know something's wrong, and we need to talk about it."

Cas sighed and flipped to a blank page. "I'm tired, Dean."

Dean huffed. "Yeah, you've been getting about four hours of sleep a night."

"No. I mean…I guess it's an emotional tiredness."

His voice was flat. Lifeless. Tired.

"Okay. You wanna talk about it?"

Cas chose a black pencil. "I should be dead."

Dean felt a chill. "What are you talking about?"

There was a long pause. "You know I've been brought back several times. And each time I died, I either did for the greater good, or because I had done something devastating. What I did to Ruth is unforgivable. You should have let her kill me."

He gawked at Cas for a minute. "Why are you saying that? You did what you thought was right at the time. Yeah, you were being crazy and shit, but Raphael's followers would probably have killed you."

Cas was heavily focused on his sketchpad now. "No. They couldn't have harmed me. They were defenseless. And Kerubiel…A Bond Mate is sacred. By the laws of Heaven, Ruth had every right to do what she did, and she should have killed me."

"Cas, come on…"

"No." His voice was hard now. "I took too many innocent lives. I was terrible angel, and now I'm this weak, pathetic human. I _wish_ Ruth had killed me."

Dean was having trouble breathing. "Don't. Don't you dare even think about it."

Cas blinked and looked up at him. "I'm not going to kill myself."

He sighed. "Cas, you're freaking me out."

"I apologize. You wanted to know what was on my mind. That's it. The only thing I deserve is death."

"So you're just gonna give up on living?"

He shrugged. Dean thumped his head against the windshield. "God, Cas. You are really scaring me right now. I can't watch you do this to yourself."

"I'm not _doing_ anything."

"Yeah. That's the problem."

Cas frowned and just focused on drawing. Dean reached into the bag and got out one of the sandwiches. It was several minutes later, and the radio station had gone to a commercial break before Cas finally spoke again.

"I miss being an angel. That's what I'm so upset about, okay? I miss it and I know I'll never be one again." Dean looked over, and Cas was blinking tears away.

"There was a moment. Right after Ruth said the spell and my wings manifested. I thought that maybe…God finally heard me. He'd given my Grace back and I was going to be able to fly again. But then…"

Cas was full on crying now, and Dean just wrapped an arm around his shoulders and pulled him close to his side. The elephant in the room was gone now. Cas hadn't talked about what had happened, and Dean wasn't going to ask, but he knew it would come up eventually, and now it had.

Dean closed his eyes and just held Cas as he shook. After several minutes, the sobs turned down to sniffles, and eventually he was quiet.

"Feel any better, babe?"

Cas sniffed, wiping his nose on the sleeve of Sam's sweatshirt. "Yeah. A little bit."

He straightened up and Dean pulled his arm back. "You gotta tell us when stuff like this starts bothering you. Don't let it build up until you get so down that you say shit like 'I wanna die'."

Cas nodded. "Yeah, okay."

He turned his attention back to the drawing, and Dean finished his sandwich. "Hey I brought one for you, too. If you want it."

Cas smiled faintly at him, the first smile he had seen in a long while. "Thank you."

As Dean handed him the food, Cas handed him his sketchpad. Dean looked at it for a minute. "Is that really what I look like?"

Cas chuckled around a huge mouthful of food. "You've seen yourself in a mirror."

Dean studied it some more. He'd drawn him from the side, down to his shoulders. He was looking down and his eyes were squinted like he was concentrating on something. "This is good, Cas."

"Thank you."

Dean turned to the next blank page and grabbed a dark blue pencil out of the box. "My turn."

Cas tried to glance over. "What are you…"

"Shoosh! No peeking."

Cas rolled his eyes and settled to watching the clouds overhead. After a minute, Dean heard him softly humming along with the song on the radio. He'd been tuning it out, but focused now. It was a Joni Mitchell song, 'Both Sides Now'.

He added 'likes Joni Mitchell' to the infinite list of things he knew about Cas that he loved.

"Okay, done," he announced a few minutes later.

Cas sat back up a little and looked at the drawing. "Uhm. That looks nothing like me."

"What? Yeah, yeah look. There's your floppy hair, and the eyes are blue…"

"My arms and legs aren't sticks."

Dean closed the sketch pad and gently clipped the back of Cas's head with it. "You're one of those pretentious, art critique douche canoes, aren't you?"

Finally, he got a real smile out of Cas. "That was _not_ art, Dean."

Dean huffed and handed it back. "Sammy says there is something worth investigating in Ohio."

"Yeah?"

"We're gonna leave in the morning. All three of us."

Cas picked at a cuticle, a habit he'd started up again. "Okay. I think I can do that."

Dean pulled him into a sideways hug. "Awesome."

XxxX

Erwin was dull and sleepy. It was hard to believe that anything remotely supernatural was happening here, and Cas thought that maybe Sam had put too much thought into coming here.

Cas and Dean went to the police station to watch the only video of any of the attacks, and to get the records of the victims. Sam was out asking around about the history of the town.

They had been looking through the files for almost an hour when Sam came back to the hotel room, holding a folder crammed with papers.

"Okay, so this town is so squeaky clean it makes soap look dirty…"

"No shit," Dean interrupted and pushed some papers out of the way. Cas shared the sentiment.

"But. There is something that happened here. Longtime residents don't like to talk about it, it's really taboo."

Dean sighed. "Alright. Spill."

"In 1916 there was a traveling circus a few towns away. After one of the shows, the elephant handlers were taking them for water, and one of them poked at an elephant named Mary to get her to hurry up."

"Didn't like that, huh?"

"No. They later found she had an infected tooth, and she trampled him. Usually, they would have sold her to another circus, but some people from the audience saw what happened."

Cas felt a chill go down his spine. He didn't like the direction this story was headed.

"Here, Erwin, was the closest town with a railway with the equipment strong enough to hang an elephant. Everyone in town came to watch. They hoisted her up with a crane but the chain was weak and it snapped. She fell and broke a hip, so they got a stronger one and did it again."

Sam rustled in his papers and set one on the table. The image was fuzzy, but still clear enough to make out the shape of an elephant.

"No one talks about it here, and there isn't anyone alive that I could find who could remember where she was buried, but it was in the rail yard."

Dean huffed. "Dude, we drove past there, that rail yard is huge. How are we supposed to find a big-ass skeleton?"

Cas frowned at him, but he didn't think Dean noticed. How could he be so disrespectful about this?

Sam shrugged. "Haven't figured that out yet."

Dean rubbed at his eyes. "Okay. Well, we're sure this is what's causing the damage?"

He felt a weird jolt of anger. The elephant spirit was _not_ a 'this'.

Sam pointed out some of the pictures of the 'crime scenes'. "Yeah, I mean look. Smashed trees, and some of these 'pits' they found in peoples' yards look an awful lot like footprints." He pulled out another printed out picture, obviously of what an elephant footprint was supposed to look like.

"See?"

"Yeah, okay. I'm buying it. Pissed off elephant ghost. We just need to find the bones to burn."

Cas snapped. "Why? Can't we do something else? Something to put her spirit to rest."

Dean looked at him like he thought he was crazy, which only served to make Cas madder. "Cas. This isn't a human, it's not gonna think the same way we do. We can't communicate with it to find out what it wants. This is the only way."

He shook his head. "No. There has to be something else."

Dean looked towards Sam. "Help me out here, man."

Sam had his eyes stuck to the floor. "Uh. I think I forgot a thing. Be right back." He hurried out the door.

There was a long silence, and Cas refused to look at Dean. After a few minutes, Dean let out a sigh of the long suffering.

"Look, I know you like animals. And that's cool. But before too long this ghost will end up killing someone. And we can't let that happen, you know that. We have to get rid of it…"

Cas snapped his gaze back onto Dean. "She is _not_ an _it_."

"Man, you aren't thinking straight on this."

"_You_ are the one not thinking straight! How can you be so cold about this? Just because she's not a human, she doesn't deserve your respect?"

He stood up and started pacing. "They have feelings and emotions and souls, Dean."

"Hey, we burn bones all the time. _Human_ bones. They move on. The way I see it, we're doin' them a service. So I am treating this like I would a normal ghost hunt. And it's never bothered you before."

"Well, it's bothering me now."

"Dude, I'm getting that."

Cas glared at him. "I'm going out."

Dean startled. "What?"

"I. Am. Going. Out." He made sure to emphasize each word.

He grabbed the jacket that he'd thrown on the bed that he and Dean had shared the night before and tugged it on. Cas was almost at the door when Dean grabbed his wrist.

"Let go."

"No, not 'til you…"

Dean didn't have a chance to finish the sentence. Cas was angry, and still confused about his emotions, and he wanted to get out for fresh air and away from Dean. So he acted on an instinct; he turned and brought his knee up hard in-between Dean's legs. He made an almost comical squawking noise and let go of Cas's hand. He took the opportunity and bolted out the door.

xxXX

Sam stared at the motel room door and sighed. He didn't know what he might find when he went in. Possibly intense and angry silence, possibly calm and friendly. Worst case scenarios were they were throwing punches at each other or were making out on the bed. He sighed again and shook his head before unlocking the door.

Dean was sitting on one of the beds, holding a hand towel full of ice on his crotch and glaring at the T.V.

"Uh, Dean?"

"Hey Sammy." He sounded pissed.

"Where's Cas?"

Dean's eye twitched slightly. "Dunno. Bastard left. _Again_."

"What happened to you?"

"I grabbed his hand and he kicked me in the nads, that's what happened!"

Sam couldn't help it, he just had to laugh a little bit. Dean glared at him. "Shut up Sam!"

"Sorry, man. Look, I went by a pawn shop and I found this."

He held up a wooden crate with something that looked like a metal detector in it. "It bounces waves into the ground, and it'll show if something is buried. We can find the grave now, I just have to fix this. It's all in pieces, so I gotta get to work."

Sam left Dean to his sulking, and started trying to put everything together. After an hour or so, he realized this was going to be a lot harder than he thought. And the more time went by, Dean's funk got heavier and heavier until Sam wanted to just throw something.

There was a click in the lock and, old habits, Sam reached back for the gun in his waistband, but it was Cas.

"Hey, man."

"Hello Sam."

He looked around. Dean was glaring at the T.V. hard enough he was surprised it hadn't caught fire yet. Cas was looking down at his hands, tearing at his cuticles again.

"Where've you been?" Sam was going to try and break the tension.

"The park." No elaboration.

Sam rolled his eyes. These two needed to get a grip.

"You want me to leave so you guys can…"

"No!," they both said at the same time.

"Oh for the love of…Just hash this out. Please? We're on a job here and I need to get this thing to work, and I can't work if you're being all bitchy at each other."

Dean just crossed his arms and Cas wouldn't look up from the floor. Sam looked back and forth between the both of them, waiting to see who would be the first to break. It ended up being Dean.

"Okay, Sammy. You're right. We'll go on a drive." He hesitated and finally looked at Cas. "If that's cool with you?"

Cas just nodded and walked back out the door. Dean huffed and stood up, wincing. "Hopefully this won't take too long."

He grabbed his jacket with the keys in them and went out. Sam sighed in relief.

Peace at last.

XxXx

The drive was silent. Dean kept having to adjust in the seat because he kept getting uncomfortable. He hadn't believed it when Cas had nailed him like that, it was totally the last thing he'd expected. Well, now he knew not to grab at Cas when he was pissed like that.

Dean found an empty lot just off the road outside of town where there was a street light. He pulled over and Cas immediately got out of the car. Dean hurried to get out after him.

"Cas, _what_ is your problem?"

Something had clearly snapped in him, because suddenly Cas went from looking nervous to being enraged. "_You_ are my problem!"

"You gotta tell me what's going on, because I don't know what I did to make you so mad."

Cas made a frustrated growling noise and grabbed at his hair. "Anything that isn't human is a _thing_ to you."

"Dude, that's not true! Come on, Benny was like a brother to me for a long time. And I kinda liked Meg sometimes. I've met some really nice ghosts…"

"That is not what I'm talking about. They were human at one time."

"Okay. So the problem here is that I'm not nice enough to animals?"

Cas made another frustrated noise, and then did the last thing Dean ever expected him to do. He reached back and pulled his gun out, and pointed it right at Dean. He put his hands up and took a step back.

"How long was I just a creature to you?"

Dean shook his head; Cas was starting to sound a little bit hysterical. "What, that's what this is about?"

"Yes! I have never been a human before Metatron stole my Grace, and then all of a sudden you're acting on these _feelings_ and telling me I'm _special_ to you. How long was I just a creature?"

Dean let his hands drop. He was starting to feel ill. Cas really didn't get it. "Can we put the gun away?"

Cas shook his head. "No."

"Okay. Yeah, when we first met, you weren't a human. But I figured that was normal because…well, you _weren't_ human. You were so much _more_, kinda alien like. And you were scary and intimidating. But I can pinpoint the exact moment when I started thinking of you as at least part human, even though I knew you weren't."

Dean took a deep breath. "It was when you and Uriel snatched me and got me to 'interrogate' Alistair. You remember what you told me?"

"Yes, I remember. I would give anything to not have to ask you to go into that room."

"Right. And then over the years you got more and more close to us, and you were my best friend. You're still my best friend. I try not to let myself have friends, you know that."

He sighed. "But the fact was, no matter how I felt about you, anything beyond being friends I buried. Way, way deep down. Because you weren't human. And even if you felt the same way, it wouldn't matter. Even if, by some miracle I managed to live to an old age, you would look the same as you do now. It would've just been impossible. And then suddenly it wasn't."

"I would have joined you in Heaven."

Cas finally lowered the gun and put it away and Dean sighed again, this time in relief. "I thought that maybe you had only started feeling as you do after I fell."

Dean took a few steps forward so he was in front of Cas. Praying that he wasn't going to pull the gun on him again, he put his arms around Cas's shoulders.

"I promise you, that wasn't the case."

Cas slumped against his chest and started shaking, so Dean lowered them both so they were kneeling on the blacktop. It was a long time before he stopped crying, and Dean held onto him and cried some with him.

"I love you, Cas. You get that, right?"

Cas's voice was shaky. "Yeah. I get it."

He pulled away and sat back on his heels, his eyes were red and his face was still wet. "Dean, I'm sorry…"

"Hey. We're cool, alright? I'm not gonna say that I get what you've been going through. But I know it's not easy on you."

Cas wiped at his face with the sleeve of his jacket. "Thank you."

He stood up, dusting off the knees of his pants. "Can we go back to the motel now?"

Dean tried to shift around to stand up, but it sent a shooting pain up his crotch. Where no shooting pain should ever go. "Uh. Mind giving me a hand here?"

Cas looked confused for a minute, then Dean could see it on his face as he worked it out. He held both hands out, and Dean was able to get up.

"Dean."

"Yeah?"

"You need to hit me, or something."

He turned around. "What in the hell are you talking about?"

"I hurt you and I feel bad about it."

Dean rolled his eyes. "I'm not gonna hit you, dumbass. Get in the car."

He started the car and looked over at Cas. Who had the gall to look all pouty. He huffed, and slapped him on the back of his head. Not very hard, just enough to sting. "Ow!"

Dean pulled out onto the road. "Happy now?"

He glanced back over and Cas was actually smiling a little. "Yes. Thank you."

When they got back to the motel room, Sam was still working on his gizmo. "Alright. DEFCON five, you can relax."

Sam just 'hmm'ed at him. There were wires and little metal pieces all over the floor. It was still early in the evening, so Dean settled on the bed and tried to find something good on T.V. Cas sat next to him and pulled out the book Charlie had given him.

Cas was comfortably warm, and with the T.V in the background and Sam muttering to himself every so often, it wasn't too long until he felt his eyes getting heavy, and he was pulled into sleep.

xXxX

Cas had no idea about what to do.

He really had to use the bathroom. But Dean had fallen asleep, and his head had rested across his shoulder and onto his chest, and he could feel Dean breathing against his neck. He was peaceful in sleep. Cas couldn't find it in him to move and wake Dean up.

He had finished Charlie's book. It was very enjoyable, and he related to the main character in a way he had not expected. He too had been cast out from his family and made an exile. Now he was going to have to find the next book in the series.

"Success!" Sam whispered, having noticed a couple of hours ago that Dean was sleeping.

"Cas, I think it's working. I'm gonna go test it. Be right back."

He gave him a thumbs up to indicate that he had heard him. When Sam closed the door, Dean began to stir a little, and after a moment his eyes fluttered open.

"You're the best pillow ever."

"Thank you. Sam just went out to see if his device is working correctly."

Dean sat up and stretched. Cas used the opportunity to bounce off the bed and run into the bathroom. When he came back out, Dean was flipping through the channels.

"I ordered pizzas for supper. Figured none of us would really want to go out."

Cas took his spot back. "You would be correct."

Dean turned the T.V. off. "Nothing good's on."

"Okay."

There was a long, awkward silence. Cas wasn't sure what was wrong. Maybe it was because of their fight earlier? Dean was probably still angry with him. Or maybe it was something else…

Dean interrupted his thoughts. "You wanna make out?"

Well. That was unexpected. "What?"

Cas looked over and Dean had slid down on the bed so he was lying down instead of sitting, and he had this look on his face that Cas imagined was meant to be seductional, but came off as more comical.

"I know you've been down for a couple of weeks, and we haven't really done anything. And I've kinda missed it. We don't have to do anything if you don't want to, though. I mean…"

He rolled his eyes. Dean got adorably chatty when he was a little nervous. He scooted some so he was at the same level as Dean, and he kissed him.

Dean had been right; it had been a while since they were in any way intimate, and it showed in the way that Dean almost immediately latched onto him and rolled them over so Cas was on his back.

It was intense, the kissing. Different in a way than it had been before. It almost felt like Dean was trying to convey forgiveness; that despite his recent behaviors, he still cherished him. And in another way, it felt like coming home. Like belonging.

It wasn't long before Dean moved on and was sucking places on his neck, and his hands were moving further down.

"Uh, Dean?" Cas was a little embarrassed at how breathless he sounded. Dean just hummed against his throat and he had to hold back a laugh because that tickled.

"What are you doing?"

Dean parted from his skin long enough to mutter, "It's a stress relief technique. Go with it."

He was dragging his hand over the bulge growing in Cas's pants infuriatingly slowly. He involuntarily rocked up into it before remembering what he was going to say.

"Pizzas will be coming…"

Dean broke away again. "Not before you do."

Cas couldn't help it this time and broke out into laughter. "Oh my God, that's horrible!"

He just huffed and kissed Cas again, now with enough force he thought Dean might be trying to suck his tongue out of his mouth. It didn't matter; Cas was still shaking with silent laughter. He broke away when it got hard to breathe and turned his attention to a spot just under Dean's ear that Cas had found he enjoyed being stimulated.

Dean had finally gotten around to opening Cas's pants and pulling them down enough to free his erection. He started backing down the bed, and nudged Cas's knees further apart. Cas moved where he was directed, and Dean's mouth was almost immediately on him.

He was very, very enthusiastic, and Cas found himself close to the edge of his climax almost embarrassingly quickly. He was pretty sure it was supposed to last longer than this.

"Dean…Ugh…Do you think maybe we could…God, I can't talk when you do that…"

He raised his head, making an absolutely sinful slurping noise as he did. "That's kinda the point, babe."

Cas took a deep breath; he was feeling lightheaded. "I am _so_ close."

"Again. Totally the point."

Dean winked at him and bent his head back down. It couldn't have been a full minute after that and Cas felt the bubbling, exploding pressure. The ceiling faded out of focus, and he felt like he was floating. Dean was doing something, but he wasn't sure what it was. Something warm. He started hearing his voice but the words were like the ceiling. Dean came into his view, and Cas made himself focus.

"Earth to Cas?"

"Huh?"

Dean grinned, looking annoyingly smug. "You kinda checked out there, man. Feeling okay?"

Cas smiled. "Feeling awesome."

He managed to push himself so he was sitting against the headboard again. Dean had cleaned him and pulled his pants back up for him. He sat on the side of the bed; they were close, their hips almost touching.

Cas grabbed Dean's shoulder and pulled him into another kiss, but a softer one. "What can I do for you, mon ange?"

Dean flushed some. "Oh. Don't worry about that. I, uh…I don't think I could get it up yet."

He must have been able to read confusion in Cas's face. "It'd probably hurt."

Cas looked down. "I'm really sorry about that."

"It's fine." He cleared his throat. "Uhm. I asked Benny what that meant. The 'mon ange' thing. He said it means 'my angel'."

He nodded. "Yes, it does. Does that make you uncomfortable?"

Dean frowned. "What? No. I just…That's really something, coming from you. Because, you know…You were my angel first."

He smiled. "I suppose I was. I promise I will make this up to you later."

Dean grinned at him. "Next motel we stop at, Sammy has to get his own room."

They both leaned in at the same time and were kissing again when they heard a key click in the lock. Dean pulled away. "Speak of the devil…", he muttered.

He and Cas both realized what he'd said at the same time, and they cracked up with laughter.

Sam came in and looked confused. "What's so funny?"

For some reason, they only laughed harder and couldn't stop for several minutes.

xxXX

The next evening, just as it was starting to get dark, the three of them drove out to the rail yard. In most of the accounts Sam had gathered, the elephant had been buried out towards the edge of the yard, so the plan was to scan out and work their way in.

While Sam walked ahead and kept his eyes on the screen that would tell him if there was place where something was buried, Dean and Cas followed and were talking, too soft for him to hear. Not that he minded. He still had no idea what had caused the two of them to be infected with the giggles the night before, and he was pretty sure he didn't want to know.

It took a little over an hour to find the right spot, and mark the corners so they knew exactly where to dig. They'd all brought a shovel, but even with all three of them working, it still felt like it took forever until they reached the bottom.

Cas found it first. "There's some kind of fabric here."

They cleared most of the dirt away and pulled back a sheet of what felt like burlap. Underneath was an enormous skeleton. It was somber to look at; to imagine that a creature of this size and strength was killed in a horrible way. Definitely ghost material.

Cas had knelt down beside what would have been the back of the head. He reached out and touched the bone, just brushing it with his fingertips. "I am so, so sorry."

Dean walked over to him and squeezed his shoulder gently. "I hate to say it, but we gotta go on ahead and do this." Cas nodded, a tear rolling down his cheek as he stood up.

The hole was deep enough that Sam had to boost Cas and Dean up and then they pulled him up. They'd brought a lot of salt and kerosene, and the three of them walked around, making sure plenty of both got down on the bones.

"Okay guys, that should do it." Dean dusted off his hands and pulled a matchbook out of his pocket. He looked at Cas and then at Sam.

"Alright?"

Cas nodded and sniffled, and Sam noticed Dean was fiddling with the matchbook; he knew Dean didn't want to do something that was going to make Cas upset.

"Here. Give it to me."

Dean looked at him and nodded, handing it over. He stood next to Cas and rubbed his back.

Sam threw the fire down.

XxxX

The story of Mary the elephant is true. Go to wiki/Mary_(elephant) to see her story.


	6. Acceptance Part One

Chapter Five: Acceptance

Just before they left Erwin, Dean saw an article in the paper that pointed to a few werewolf attacks in, of all the depressingly ironic places, Madison, Wisconsin. So they headed north to check it out. Unfortunately, when they got there, it was to find out that the attackers were actually a nest of almost rabid vamps that liked to tear people apart and then eat their hearts.

That was a hard fight. Or at least that's what Cas and Sammy told him when he came to. He freaking missed about half of it after he got jumped from behind by one of the bastards who had a tire iron. Now Dean had a killer headache, bad enough that he let Sam drive so he could lay down on the backseat.

Their next stop was Napa, California. Cas had actually found this case; he'd borrowed Sam's computer and read about it on a news site. It was pretty weird, which by their standards was saying something. Three men had been found over the last week, with most of their hair chopped off and their eyes gouged out.

Dean was still hurting, but he was able to drive now. "Okay, so tell me, how is this our kind of case?"

Cas shrugged in the backseat. "It spoke to me."

Sam turned around. "It 'spoke' to you?"

"It feels unnatural. I know something's up."

Sam turned back around. "If there's nothing here, we at least have to go wine tasting."

Dean gagged. "Yeah, man, have fun with that." He parked at a motel.

The first thing they did was go to the Coroner's Office. Dean thought the coroner, Dr. Pfaster was kinda creepy; he was really, really excited about the bodies. He thought the dude might be one of those freaky fetishists. And he smelled weird. And he looked at Cas's ass more than once. He just didn't like the guy.

"This is all very interesting. You know, this place is pretty calm most of the time. We haven't had a good murder in a long time."

Sam shook his head. "What are the police thinking?"

"Oh, that these are the work of a serial killer! We've never had one of those here. Not that I know of."

The guy was almost _bouncing_. "So it definitely is just the one person?"

"Oh, yes. See?"

He had pulled the drapes back on all three bodies. They were big guys, one of them looked like a bodybuilder, another had a lot of old burns so he may have been a fire fighter, and the last guy had a 'Semper Fi' tattoo on his arm.

"Look, here at the eye sockets. Whoever did this, we can tell they used the same instrument on all three of the victims. And…and the ligature marks? On their necks and wrists, they found _fibers_ in them and they're all from the _same material_. Something organic. The forensics lab is identifying it now."

Dude was seriously creeping Dean out now. "Uh, can we have some alone time here? Do our investigation work?"

"Oh." He looked disappointed that he was being asked to leave his bodies. "Yes, of course. Take all the time you need."

Dean whistled as soon as he was gone. "Man. He and Death need to go out and get some McDonald's together sometime."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Guys, I think this is just a serial killer. I mean, nothing is pointing towards witchcraft, or anything we've seen before."

Cas had put on a pair of gloves and was looking through the first guy's hair. "Uh, Cas, what are you doing?"

"Looking."

Sam threw his hands up. "You're determined to find something on this. I'm telling you, there's nothing here."

Cas held his hand out, staring intently at the back of the guy's head. "Sammy, will you hand me those…uhm…pinchy picker-upers?"

Sam huffed and smacked it into his hand. "_Forceps_, Cas."

Dean laughed. "Or big ass tweezers."

Just after he said that, Dean realized what had just happened. Cas had called him 'Sammy', and Sam hadn't blown up about how only Dean could get away calling him that.

"What's up with you?"

Sam was looking at him. "You look all…shmoopy."

"Dude, that's not word. And I do not."

Cas had straightened up, with whatever he had found. "What's that?"

He dropped it into his hand and sniffed at it. "I believe it is a piece of a leaf from a grape vine."

Sam rolled his eyes. "We're in _Napa Valley_. Everything is grapes."

Cas just ignored him and looked in the hair some more. "Their hair was shorn with a knife. Hacked off, more likely."

He shook his head. "This is familiar. But I'm not sure from where."

Sam had his bitch face on, and Dean figured it may be time to go. "Hey, I don't think there's more to learn here. Why don't we get some lunch then go get the case files?"

xXxX

It was nagging Cas. He tried and tried to remember where he knew this from. It was like something he had seen long, long ago and his memory of it had gotten fuzzy around the edges. And Sam's attitude wasn't helping much. Cas wasn't sure what had put him in what Dean called a 'funk'.

"Hello. My name's Delilah, and I'll be your server today."

Cas snapped out of his head and looked up at the waitress. She was exceptionally pretty, with light blonde hair and large brown eyes. Sam, who was sitting across from him and Dean, was staring at her and his mouth had dropped open.

"What can I get for you?"

Dean got a bacon cheeseburger, Cas a grilled chicken sandwich, and Sam a steamed vegetable plate. Delilah wrote it all down and smiled cheerfully, then turned to go. As she turned, she dropped the order book, and kneeled down to pick it up. "Sorry about that. Clumsy hands!"

Sam's eyes followed her all the way back to the kitchen.

Dean leaned forward. "Dude! Seriously, you gotta try and tap that while we're here. She is smokin' hot."

Cas slapped him on the arm. "What was that for? I can't look?"

He shook his head. "You can look. If you touch, I'll cut your hand off."

Sam was still staring at the kitchen door. "Sam?"

"Huh?"

"Are you okay?"

Cas was starting to be concerned about him. "Yeah, fine."

Cas looked at Dean who was shaking his head and trying not to laugh.

The food came soon afterwards, and Delilah winked at Sam when she put his plate in front of him. He was still gawking at her.

Cas didn't like her. He had a bad feeling about all this. There was something very _wrong_ happening here, and it really bothered him that he couldn't put his finger on it.

"Babe, are you okay?"

Dean had gently tapped him with his elbow and leaned over. "It's not about the waitress thing, is it? 'Cause I was just kidding about that…"

He chuckled. "It's fine. I just can't shake this feeling off. I don't like it. Something bad is happening."

Dean put his hand on Cas's knee under the table. "Don't worry, we'll figure it out."

They ate mostly in silence after that, breakfast having been several hours earlier, and they were all hungry. Sam starting nervously fidgeting in his seat after he finished, and just as soon as Dean put the last fry in his mouth, he popped out of the chair with an "I'll get it!", and almost _ran_ to the register where Delilah was at.

When Sam could finally be pulled away from the counter, they went by the police station, and Dean told them to wait in the car while he ran in and got the case files they needed on the three men.

Cas leaned forward so he could talk to Sam. "Are you feeling well?"

Sam was jiggling his foot up and down, like a nervous tic. "What? Yeah, of course. Why?"

"You seem…On edge."

He just shook his head. "Nope. Fine."

Sam then took his phone out of his pocket and started texting someone, and Cas knew that was a clear dismissal. He'd have to ask Dean later.

He didn't take long, and Dean got back in the car with three file folders. "Alright, this is all they have on the guys. I'll drop you two off at the motel, and go check out the houses."

Sam jerked his head up. "How long are you gonna be gone?"

Dean pulled out on to the road. "However long it takes to sweep the places. Why? You got a hot date or something?"

He chuckled, like that was very unlikely, but Sam actually blushed a little and slumped some in his seat. Dean looked over at him.

"Seriously? Awesome! When do you need the car?"

"She gets off work at seven," Sam muttered.

"Alright. I'll try and have her back in time, man."

XxxX

It took almost no time to sweep the places. All these dudes had lived alone, all single. No EMF, the few people Dean talked to that lived near them said they were all real low key. Just never came home one day, then turned up dead. No one had heard or seen anything weird. He looked in all the usual places for hex bags.

Everything was more or less clean. Dean sighed as he got back in the car. It looked like Sam may be right and this was a bust. Just a crazy person killing people. Cas was going to be disappointed.

When he got back to the motel, Sam was, hand-to-God, _modeling_.

"Okay. What about this? Better or worse than the last one?"

Cas was sitting on the bed with a crap load of papers in front of him. "Uhm…The same?"

Sam huffed and went back in the bathroom.

Dean sat on the other bed. "How long has he been changing clothes?"

Cas glanced at his watch. "Half an hour."

He shook his head. "Well, all the places were clean. Nothing weird there. What've you got?"

Cas just shook his head, too, not moving his eyes from the papers. Dean sighed and moved to sit at the table where Sam had his computer set up.

After a few more minutes, Sam came back out with a completely different outfit on. "Okay. What about this one?"

Dean stood up. "Sammy, you look great."

"Really?"

He looked dorkily hopeful. "Yes. You are _awesome_, and all set to go out and get it on with waitress-chick. Now here, take care of her, you understand?"

Sam took the keys and grinned. "Yeah, thanks."

The door clicked behind him.

Dean stood in the middle of the room, and looked at Cas, still flipping through the files.

"Hey, Cas?"

"Hmm?"

"You wanna take a break?"

"Why?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "Well, Sammy's gonna be gone for a while, and…"

Cas didn't even look up. "There are _lives_ in danger here, Dean. I will not take a 'break' for the sake of your libido."

He just went back over to the computer, muttering "It was just a suggestion," under his breath.

Dean honestly started off looking at stuff for the case. He was looking into how exactly you'd get an eyeball out, which led to squicky videos on YouTube, which, _somehow_, he wasn't sure how, led to videos of kittens doing adorable shit almost an hour later.

He had it muted and the only sound was papers rustling, so when Cas suddenly said "Oh my God!", Dean nearly jumped out of his seat.

"What?"

"Dean, I know what this is. Look. Look at the names."

He pushed the paper into Dean's hands. "Paul Thomas Jr., Daniel Sammers, Sampson Philips. Okay?"

"Paul Thomas went by 'Sam', his middle name. All of these men had names with 'Sam' in them. And they were all strong, and the pictures of them before they were murdered show they all had long-ish hair."

Dean shook his head. "Okay?"

Cas rolled his eyes and went over and grabbed a book out of his bag, then flipped through it.

"I won't read the whole thing, just the relevant parts. 'Some time later, he fell in love with a woman in the Valley of Sorek whose name was Delilah. Having put him to sleep on her lap, she called a man to shave off the seven braids of his hair, and so began to subdue him. And his strength left him. Then the Philistines seized him, gouged out his eyes and took him down to Gaza. Binding him with bronze shackles, they set him to grinding in the prison.'"

He closed the book. "Sound familiar? Strong men, hair shorn, eyes gone, names suspiciously close to Samson?"

Dean sighed. "So whoever is doing this..."

"We know who is doing this! That waitress that Sam is with _right now_."

He stood up and started pacing. "But why? And how?"

"Dean, this is the actual Delilah. She was a witch, and I imagine she gains power this way, some spell using the hair and the eyes of strong men, sapping them of their strength until they die. And she is _extremely_ powerful, that's why she can change her appearance, and enchant people without needing hex bags."

He nodded. "Okay. So we need to find them. How do we do that?"

Cas fidgeted. "There's…It's an Enochian spell I know…"

"Great, what do you need, there's a Walgreens down the road."

He shook his head. "I don't know if I can still do Enochian spells. I haven't tried to do any of the rituals, or…"

"Hey." Dean grabbed him by the shoulders. "Look. Sam is in trouble. You try this, and we'll find them if it works. If not, we'll work something else out. Now, what do you need?"

Cas sighed. "Chalk, a marker, a bowl, rosemary, thyme, honey…" He paused, thinking. "Do you happen to have anything with Sam's blood on it?"

"Uh, I don't think so."

"Okay, his toothbrush will have to work. And I need a map of the city."

Dean nodded and rushed down to the store. He raced through, trying not to think about how long Sammy had been gone already, and how much longer it might take to get to him.

By the time Dean got back to the room, Cas had cleared off the table. He handed him the bag, and Cas started drawing sigils on the table, then unfolding the map. He looked at the hot pink Sharpie questioningly.

"It was the only one they had, man. What do you need?"

"The toothbrush. And a knife."

Cas was shifting back and forth when Dean came out of the bathroom. "Here you go."

"Thank you." He fiddled with the knife. "Dean, I am really sorry it took me so long to figure this out."

He pulled Cas into a hug. "Not your fault, babe. Let's just get to finding him."

Cas pulled away and nodded. He put the toothbrush in the bowl, and poured the herbs and the honey over it, chanting in Enochian. He cut a line down his palm, still chanting and let it flow into the mixture.

There was a pause and he picked up the Sharpie, holding it right over the middle of the map. Cas said something simple, and he drew a freakishly perfect circle. He repeated what he had said and drew another smaller circle inside the first. Cas said it a few more times until he sighed and capped the marker. There were three streets circled.

"That's as close as I think I can get. She's shielded it."

Dean nodded. "Well, the car will be there. We can find her, we can find Sammy."

XxxX

As Dean had suspected, the Impala was parked on the side of a street, in front of an apartment building.

"Okay. Now what?"

Dean shrugged. "Do you know another cool spell?"

Cas thought for a minute. "Do you have _anything_ of Sam's?"

He shook his head, then stopped. "Hey, the car!"

Cas threw his head back. "The car is not Sam's!"

Dean looked at him like he thought he was crazy. "No, but there's a spare key…"

He leaned down and reached under the car and pulled out a strip of duct tape, with a key stuck to it. Dean opened the trunk and rooted through it. "Here. This is his."

It was a shirt that had gotten too much blood on it, and they hadn't remembered to toss it yet.

Cas held it in his hands. The words came to him slowly now; when he had had his Grace, Enochian was instinctive. Now he had to remember, and think carefully. Enochian was an extremely powerful language; one syllable misplacement could have terrible consequences. Like accidently setting himself on fire.

But after a minute he was able to locate Sam. "This way."

They raced up four flights of steps, and Cas barreled into the apartment door before Dean could stop him. The pull of the spell was too strong, so he was being drawn to Sam like a magnet.

The witch had Sam strapped to a chair, tied at the wrists to the arms of the chair and his neck was tied to some kind of headrest. His hair had already been cut away, and Delilah was standing behind him with a knife.

She turned as Cas burst his way in, and made a serpentine hissing noise. She had dropped the attractive blonde look, now looking more like an animated and mummified corpse.

He vacantly heard Dean yell his name, but he was acting on instinct. A spell popped to the front of his mind, and he held both hands up and tossed the few words out.

Cas really wished his mind had provided him with what that spell did, because now they were all covered in dark purple…sticky goop.

He heard a spitting noise. "Cas? What the fuck?"

Turning around, he saw Dean was splattered, head to toe. "Gut feeling?"

"Yeah? Well, your 'gut feeling' can go…"

Cas wiped a blob that was getting near his eye. "Yeah, come bitch at me when you've exploded an over three million year old witch."

He walked over and picked the knife up and started cutting at the bindings. "I think these are grape vines she used."

"Huh." Cas glanced over at Dean, who was licking at his bottom lip. "She was made out of grape jelly."

"You are _disgusting_."

Cas looked at Sam, and Dean came over. "Sammy? How're you feeling?"

Sam leaned forward in the chair, rubbing at the angry line across his throat. "Ugh. I think she drugged me in the diner, because I don't remember much after that. I came to in here, and she said she was sacrificing me to make her more powerful. It got a little hazy again, then there was this pop."

He looked down at himself. "Cas, what did you do?"

Dean answered for him. "He remembers some Enochian spells. He wasn't sure if they would still work, but I think it's pretty obvious now that they can."

He was starting to feel sick. "Those spells take up a lot of energy."

Sam looked up at him. "Yeah man, you look pale."

He frowned and moved his head around again. "Something's different."

Cas had leaned into Dean for a little support, but he was able to step on his foot.

"Sam, it was Delilah. Remember the other victims, how they were…"

His hands flew to his head. "My hair…Oh my God!"

Sam jumped up and ran over to a connected bathroom where there was a mirror. "Oh my God! My _hair!_"

Cas eyed the chair and sat down quickly. "Babe, are you okay?"

He looked up, and Dean was looking truly concerned. Cas smiled. "The Enochian spells take up energy. With my Grace, the energy was almost limitless. As a human, it's different. And the energy used with different spells varies. Locating a person is simple. Exploding someone is another matter."

"Okay, well, just sit put while Sam has his crisis, and we'll go. Just…Don't explode anyone else."

xxXX

Sam had had to put up with a lot of ill-disguised giggles before he socked Dean in the arm and made him go find some toboggans. His hair…_His hair_…Had been butchered. It was all choppy and weird, and the only way to get it evened out would be to shave his head. Which…Just, no.

And now his head, and his neck, even his damn ears were freezing now. So Dean gleefully went out and returned with toboggans, a few in normal colors, one a bright orange, and a hot pink one with _fucking sparkles _and _stars_. He knew his brother was trying to make him feel better, but still. No.

Dean was now out getting them all breakfast before they checked out of the room, and Sam had shoved a red hat on, and was grateful that almost none of his hair showed, and it covered his ears.

He was busy packing up all his things; for some reason Dean had gotten him new toothbrush, God only knew what happened to the last one. Cas was at the table, using one of the motel's washcloths to get the last of the chalk drawings off of it.

"Uhm…Hey, Cas?"

"Yes Sam." He didn't look up.

"I owe you an apology. You knew something was up, and I kept shooting you down. And, well, obviously you were right. So, I'm sorry."

Cas turned away from the table and sat on one of the chairs. "There is nothing to apologize for." He hesitated. "But…even before we came here, you have been acting odd. If you don't want to tell me what's wrong, I understand, but please know I will do what I can to help."

Sam sat on the edge of his bed. "You probably still don't pay much attention to dates, do you?"

He shrugged. "I've never really had to in the past."

"Well, today is November the second."

"Oh." Cas looked embarrassed. "I'm sorry, Sam."

He shrugged. "With Dean, it's not so much a big deal anymore around this time. But, you know, with Jess…I guess it still hits me really hard some years."

Cas was quiet for a few minutes and Sam went on packing.

"Palo Alto isn't very far."

Sam turned and looked at Cas. "What?"

"It's just a suggestion."

He was kind of surprised. Cas was turning more human than he had realized. "I'll think about it."

After Dean got back with their food and they did a double check that everything had been packed up, they loaded the trunk. Cas had already opened the back passenger door, but Sam stopped him. "Hey, sit up front for a change."

If Cas was surprised, he didn't show it, just opened up the other door. Dean gave him a questioning look in the rearview mirror but he didn't ask.

They were almost out of Napa when Sam made up his mind. "Hey, Dean."

"What's up?"

He hesitated for a second, but really, it was long overdue. "We're going to Palo Alto."

"Oh. We are, are we?"

He heard a smack and Dean making an 'oof' noise. As near as he could tell, Cas had hit him in the chest.

"You heard the man. Palo Alto."

Dean glared between the two of them, and got on the road heading westward, towards the coast.

"Treason and mutiny. I hate you both."

XxxX

They were saved from a heavy, uncomfortable silence because Dean had turned the radio up pretty loud. He knew what was going on; Sammy needed to go to Jess's grave. He still didn't really understand the point of talking to a _rock_, but…Sam was into it.

The closer and closer they got to Stanford, the more and more tension Dean could feel leaking from the backseat. He looked back at Sam, checking on him about every fifteen minutes, and he was just sort of staring out the window. Dean knew they were getting into territory that he would remember. Old hangout spots, stuff like that.

It was nearing sundown when they pulled up to the cemetery where Jess was buried. Dean couldn't remember exactly where she was, but after a couple of minutes he heard Sam. "Here, Dean. Stop."

He put the car in park and turned her off. Sam fidgeted in the backseat. "Cas?"

"Yes?" Cas turned around so he could see him.

"If someone's in Heaven, can they hear you? You know, talking at their grave."

He hesitated. "From what I've been told, it's only if you had a strong bond. It's almost the way I used to hear prayers; sort of a whispering in their ear."

Sam nodded. "Good. Okay. Uhm…Can you guys wait here?"

Dean nodded. "Take your time, little brother."

He got out and disappeared into the maze of graves. Dean looked over at Cas.

"Is what you just said true?"

"I don't know. It very well might be. I didn't speak to very many souls in Heaven."

Dean reached over and grabbed his hand. "Well, thanks for telling him that."

Cas squeezed back. "I _am_ getting the hang of these things, you know."

"I noticed." He looked around. "Hey. We are all alone, and Sammy's gonna be gone awhile. You wanna…" Dean motioned to the backseat.

Cas looked at him like he had just killed a bunny, or something. "Dean, we are in a _graveyard_. For God's sakes…"

Dean laughed. "I was joking. Jeeze."

Something popped up in his mind that he'd been meaning to ask. "Hey. Why'd that lady explode into jelly?"

"Delilah? I thought I'd already explained this."

Dean rolled his eyes. "I don't think you did."

Cas moved so he was a little closer to Dean. "Grapes. She got her powers from an ancient pagan God, I don't even remember his name, but he resided over plants, specifically grapes. Living as long as she did, and as powerful as she was, she wasn't human anymore. Delilah basically gave her soul and her body over to the God. What fueled her besides the sacrifices was that she needed to be somewhere that was plentiful in grapes."

"Napa Valley is wine country."

Cas nodded. "And when she was still human, she lived in the Valley of Sorek."

Dean shook his head. "No idea."

"It is an area where there have been grape vines growing since…Well, almost forever."

"So…She was literally _made _of grapes?"

He nodded again. "Yes. Exactly."

Dean sighed. "Well. That's definitely one for the journal. Weird times, man."

They sat in silence for a while, and it was starting to get dusky out.

"You called him 'Sammy'."

Cas looked at him, confused for a few moments. "Oh. At the morgue. I suppose I did. Habit of listening to you calling him that all the time."

"He didn't bitch at you about it."

Cas still looked confused. "I'm not getting your point."

"You're family."

He nodded. "Yeah, you've been telling me that for a while."

Dean shook his head and chuckled. "It just…makes me happy, okay?"

"Okay."

He looked over at Cas; he was smiling at Dean. They both leaned in at the same time, and Dean couldn't remember the last time someone had kissed him like this. Probably when he was with Lisa.

Cas hadn't said it with words yet, but the sweet way he was kissing Dean, and the way Cas was grabbing and tugging at his jacket to get him closer said it enough. Dean didn't need it in words. Cas was saying 'I love you', loud and clear.

Making out in the front seat was _hard_, and not in the cool way. Cas ended up kneeling on both knees in the middle of the bench seat, and Dean had turned around as far as he could, but there were things in the way, and he was pretty sure that he'd have bruises on his knees later.

Totally worth it, though.

Cas broke away and latched onto his neck, sucking at a spot under his ear, hard enough that Dean knew there was gonna be a hickey later.

"Hey, I thought this was some kind of blasphemous behavior."

Cas leaned back to look at him. "Blasphemy seems to be my middle name."

Dean managed to breathe out a weak laugh as Cas tried to get a little bit closer, and he somehow weaseled his hands up the back of Dean's shirts.

"You have the most marvelous skin, you know that?"

"Uhh…" Cas had started back on his neck again. "I don't think I've heard that one before."

He had to hold back a laugh because Cas hummed and it tickled.

That was when the backdoor opened. Cas squawked and almost fell into the floor of the car, and Dean jumped so far that he hit his knee hard enough that everything below it went numb.

Sam climbed in and shut the door. His face and eyes were red, but it looked like maybe a weight had been lifted off of him.

"You guys are gross."

Dean glanced over at Cas who looked like he was torn between laughing and being embarrassed.

"Your face is…gross."

He started the car and they got going. Dean drove through the night, Sam stretching out on the backseat and asleep by midnight, and Cas drifting off against the window around three.

There was no way Dean was going to sleep. Not on this night. And not with his angel so close by.

xxXX

They had a week of no hunting after that. Sam had an eye out on news sites and papers, and Garth had them on speed dial, but for a week it was quiet.

Dean found an empty abandoned lot and finally got around to teaching Cas how to drive. He took to it pretty well. He thought so, anyway, but for the first twenty minutes or so Dean was clutching at the door handle hard enough that Cas thought he might break it.

Cas got the next few books in the series that Charlie had gotten him hooked on, and he spent a good bit of time in the garden, reading or drawing. It was cold out, colder than he had experienced so far, but it was sunny, and he just bundled up. Sam told him he looked like an Eskimo.

Sam invested himself in trying to make a map of the bunker. Cas had managed to glance at it a few times. While Sam did have many enviable skills, cartography was not one of them. Nothing was to scale, and the dimensions were all wrong. What he had made so far technically defied the laws of physics. But Cas knew that if he offered creative criticism, Sam was likely to make a 'bitch face'. So he kept his mouth shut.

After several attempts, many of them utter failures, Dean managed to cook some of the recipes that Benny had left. Benny himself had called Dean a couple of days after they'd gotten back home.

He had settled himself in New Orleans. And he had caught three relatively newly turned vampires trying to raid a blood bank. They had almost walked into an area where they would have been caught. Benny had helped them; they had all belonged to the same nest, and had left because they didn't want to drink from humans.

Benny had found what he hadn't had his previous time back from Purgatory. A purpose. He became a mentor to these wayward vampires, and was helping them adjust. Dean sounded very happy and proud while he was speaking with him. Cas was happy, too. Benny had saved him once again, and he wanted Benny to have a good…well, not life. Existence. A good existence.

Then, one day, as Dean would say, the other shoe dropped.

They were all in the library, looking at a very, very old text that Sam had found, that described some kind of ritual. Cas was trying to translate it; whoever had written it had had terrible handwriting, when something happened that had never happened before.

There were three great booming knocks at the door. They all looked at each other and then went to the bottom of the staircase, where there was still a duffle bag packed with guns that they hadn't unloaded yet.

"It can't be a demon; I checked that door and it's solid iron," Sam whispered and Dean nodded.

"Garth or Charlie would have called first."

Whoever it was knocked again.

"Maybe someone's lost and saw the car?"

Sam and Dean both gave him a Look. Dean started creeping up the stairs, motioning to the other two to cover him. Just as he got to the door, there was another knock, this time accompanied by a woman's voice.

"Uhm…Hello? Maybe I got this wrong, but I'm looking for Castiel."

Dean looked down at him and Cas shrugged; the voice was not familiar.

"What do you want with him?"

There was a moment of silence. "I need to speak with him. And the Winchesters. I have a message."

Dean glanced over at Sam, who just shrugged. He put the handgun in the waistband of his pants and yanked the door open and pulled the woman in quickly.

"Who are you?"

She was very short, with curly black hair and light brown eyes. More importantly, she was all swelled up like a balloon, around seven or eight months pregnant. She looked around and saw Cas, and she smiled at him.

"You would have known me as Sara. But my name is Lizzy now."

"Oh…"

Dean walked closer to him. "Cas, who is this?"

"She's…_was_ an angel. She used to be in my old garrison, but she got wounded during a battle and they reassigned her to work somewhere in Heaven."

Sam made no move to put his gun away. "So you're the last one. The last of the angels that fell who remembered who they were."

Lizzy raised her hands. "I had nothing to do with Ruth, and her plans. Honestly, I had considered taking my Grace out and falling, months before we were ejected. Heaven was a _war zone_. All I wanted was peace."

She glanced over at Cas. "Brother, I don't blame you for that. With Raphael in command, it would have been worse. I would have rather had the chaos than the Apocalypse."

She faced Sam again. "After I woke up, I had minimal injuries, but I was in the hospital. My…Vessel, she was married and her husband was there. It…" Lizzy smiled. "It was like seeing for the first time after living in the dark."

She rubbed her belly. "Everything was perfect. Then I heard the chatter. Ruth had turned everyone into a boiling rage, and she was trying to get me to join them, but I refused and turned the signal off. When I felt them die, I'm ashamed to say I was a little relieved."

Sam looked at Dean and Cas, and Cas nodded. All the guns were put away. Lizzy sighed. Dean led them all towards the kitchen, where they could sit down.

"So, how did you know where we were?"

"It came to me in a dream."

Sam was skeptical. "A _dream_."

"Yes. Almost a week ago. I was asleep, and then these numbers kept flashing in front of my eyes, and then a voice said 'Your Brother Castiel and the Winchesters must go to Wilmington, North Carolina'. I woke up and jotted the numbers down and looked them up. They were coordinates for this bunker."

Sam frowned. "Did you recognize the voice, Lizzy?"

She shook her head sadly. "No. It sounded like hundreds of voices, whispering in unison. It was actually very pretty, but I have no idea who it was. They clearly wanted me to find you."

Dean leaned forward, his elbows on the table. "I don't think I need to tell you this, but this is kinda our secret lair…"

"Oh, oh no, I won't tell a soul. I didn't even tell Tommy what state I was going to."

"So the hubby was cool with you driving cross-country, not telling him where you were going, and with you ready to pop?"

Lizzy smiled. "We live in Chicago, so it was hardly cross-country. And the little one here won't be coming for two more months. I just told him it was angel business."

Sam looked surprised. "He knows? How much did you tell him?"

"That I was an angel. That we had all been expelled from Heaven, and that I was one of a very lucky few who could remember what I was and had some remaining powers. He was skeptical for a long time, but when I telekinetically picked up the refrigerator, you should have seen the look on his face!"

She chuckled absently.

Cas finally spoke. "Lizzy, do you know what's happening in Wilmington?"

She looked at him sadly. "I wish I knew, Brother. I…I have not quite mastered the device, but I tried to look it up on the Google…"

Cas kicked Sam under the table; he _knew_ he was about to laugh.

"…but I had no luck."

He nodded. "We'll look into it, Sister. Thank you."

She smiled at him. "You're welcome."

Lizzy looked around the table. "Thank you all for listening to the message. I hope something good will come from it." She stood.

"I should be on my way back home. Good luck."

Cas stood, too. "Do you want to stay here for the night? There are plenty of extra rooms."

Lizzy shook her head. "No. There are hours of daylight left."

"I'll walk you out to your car, then."

They were out of the bunker, and Lizzy smiled at him. "Cas, I am more than pleased that we have both found happiness here. You have a family, and I am…"

She touched her stomach with reverence. "Isn't it amazing, Cas? I am growing a human, a human that will have a soul and a will of its own. In the garrison, I mostly paid attention to the animals, and the plants, and the earth. Humans never interested me as much as they did you. And now I am _growing_ one."

"Do you know what it is? A boy or a girl?"

She patted it. "Tommy and I want it to be a surprise."

Cas dug in his pockets and found a pen and an old gas receipt.

"This is my phone number. I would like the two of us to stay in touch."

She took the paper and leaned forward to hug him. It was very awkward, with the baby in the way.

"Thank you, Cas. I want that, too."

She smiled. "All of this…It happened because of you. Your actions have brought me a happiness I never imagined possible."

Lizzy patted the side of his face. "I wish you the best of fortunes, Brother."

Cas wasn't able to hold back the single tear that trailed down his face. "And I you, Sister."

Cas waved Lizzy goodbye, and didn't stop until she rounded a corner, and she was gone. But not for forever. Cas knew they'd see each other again soon.

XxxX

Just after Cas went outside with Lizzy, Sam started pulling up the usual websites, looking for whatever weirdness might be going on in Wilmington. He didn't find anything, though, other than a couple of robberies and an old man dying from pneumonia.

He dug deeper, going into less conventional territory. Two alien sightings, and a few people claiming to have seen the ghost of Davy Jones. The Monkee, not the pirate. Sam sighed; it looked like this was a bust.

But _how_ could Lizzy have known about the bunker?

Sam tapped a _little_ bit deeper. Like, maybe he found his way into the New Hanover County Sheriff's Department server. There was something going on, something they were keeping out of any papers. Sam tried to work his way into the files on the twelve 'highly suspicious' incidents, but they were sealed up real tight. He was still working on it when Cas came back in and he could hear him and Dean talking distantly in another room. He didn't pay them any attention; he was concentrating.

After almost an hour of frustrating _nothingness_, Sam gave up on it. He shut his computer, and went to the T.V room, where Dean and Cas were likely to be. They were watching 'Raiders of the Lost Arc', and Cas was helpfully pointing out every historical inaccuracy.

Dean paused it, looking relieved. "Hey. What did you find?"

Sam dropped into the armchair. "Twelve very secretive files, and they aren't releasing any info about them out to the public."

"Did you find out anything about them?"

He shook his head. "No. But if they're keeping whatever's going on this secret, I'd say it's probably gonna be our kinda thing. And it's gonna be something big."

Dean unpaused the movie. "Alright. We'll leave in the morning."


End file.
